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chuuyrr · 5 months ago

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ᯓ YOU KNOW HOW TO BALL, I KNOW ARISTOTLE — NAKAHARA CHUUYA ⊹ ࣪ ˖

ᡣ𐭩 CW(s): f! reader, pre-med student reader x student athlete chuuya, 5.2k words, heavily inspired from a t.s. song

ᡣ𐭩 SYNOPSIS: in which an academic achiever finds an unexpected chemistry with an athlete at college

ᡣ𐭩 NOW PLAYING: so high school & the alchemy

ᡣ𐭩 A.N.: reblogs are appreciated ! hope u enjoy reading this <3

you clutch the strap of your backpack as your friends excitedly drags you along with them across the main campus building of where you attended your classes. you had just finished your chemistry lecture, when your friends brought up the ongoing goodwill games that were taking place in the gymnasium.

you never really had any fondness for sports. in fact, all of the sports courses you had taken up before, which weren't any majors, were not given any effort by you. just as those courses were labeled as such, they weren't majors, so they weren't your priorities.

you were all about the majors. the bigger, badder subjects. the chemistries. the laboratory classes. those were your a-games.

but you smile along with your friends, it couldn't hurt to watch some sports taking place.

“gosh, be more a little excited, (nickname)!” one of your friends giggles and playfully nudges your elbow.

“i know right? the business administration third years are playing against our third years, and you know what that means!” your other friend chimes, all giddy.

“of course i do. handsome guys..” you sigh, not really showing any interest as your two friends squealed at your answer regardless.

your two friends drag you inside the gymnasium. the sliding and thumping of rubber shoes against the court along with the words of a commentator resonated inside. you look around and there were already students by the bleachers ranging from lower to higher years, as well as high school students who were simply enjoying the match.

as you join your friends in the bleachers, you catch sight of a certain redhead. he was from the opposing team, adorning a red and black jersey with the number twenty-nine and the name nakahara on his back.

“hmm, nakahara..” you mutter softly to yourself.

your friends heard and giggled, playfully nudging your arm and side with a giddy smile.

“fancying someone i see?” one of them asks.

“no! i'm just reading names.” you immediately say, your cheeks growing warm from embarrassment.

“we heard you loud and clear, (nickname). you've been eyeing player twenty-nine.” your other friend points out.

“oh shut up.. err—maybe i was.” you shrug in a sheepish smile as the three of you watch the basketball match.

“well, if you're interested. his name is nakahara chuuya. third year, so just a college year ahead of us.” your friend explains, a smirk following after, “confirmed to be single.”

“and how is the last part relevant?” you raise a brow, causing your friends to giggle.

“just in case.” your friend shrugs with an innocent tone.

you playfully roll your eyes before you continue watching the game with an intent gaze, following the ball as it arcs in the air, passed skillfully by players. your focus sharpens when it finally lands in the hands of the player you've been eyeing before.

number twenty-nine. nakahara.

despite the intense attempts of the defenders from your side to intercept, chuuya skillfully catches the ball from his teammate on the opposite side of the court. your cheeks grew warm again, perhaps even warmer, when he moves with such fluid grace, dribbling the ball past his opponents, his eyes locked on the hoop.

“damn, he's good..” you mutter to yourself as your friends, along with the crowd, start cheering the rising climax.

you furrow your brow and your heart races as you watch chuuya on the court. the world appears to blend around you, and all you see is him. his determination is evident, and his eyes have a fierce glint as he prepares himself for the shot. he moves with natural ease, the ball an extension of his body.

he jumps in the air as time slows down. you watch breathlessly as the muscles in his arms flex, the light catching the sweat on his brow, and you feel a warm sensation run through your chest. the ball leaves his hands in a flawless arc in the air and the next thing you know—you've fallen for him.

the roar of the crowd diminishes, leaving only the hammering of your own heartbeat. the ball swishes through the net of the hoop, and his triumphant smile seals your fate.

fuck, you're in love.

his gaze darts through the crowd, waving his hands alongside his fellow athletes and scanning the faces, before landing on the bleachers where you sit. your breath caught when you felt his gaze on you. you are confident in your eye contact, and the warmth on your face increases. your cheeks burn, and you instinctively touch your face, feeling the heat radiating from your skin.

chuuya's gaze lingers on yours for a little longer, and a small, knowing smile tugs on the corner of his lips. the realization that he genuinely sees you sends shivers down your spine. the commotion of the crowd returns, but all you can think about is that shared look.

you lower your hand from your face, attempting to calm your pounding heart, knowing that something big has occurred between you.

“you good?” your friend raises a brow at you.

“oh damn, she's gushing!” your other friend gasps out dramatically.

“oh my god, shut up! he's watching!” you cover your face now, your cheeks burning at this point as you tell your friends to zip it.

“oh.. oh.” they both mutter in unison.

the game progresses further and you were drawn to every move, pass, and shot, but none were more than those of number twenty-nine, and when the final whistles blow as the timer runs out, the game ends with chuuya's team emerging victorious.

the gymnasium roars with cheers and applause, and you watch your friends already clambering down the bleachers to get closer to the players, pulling you down the floor with them. you were hesitant and awkward about it, considering how they were cheering more towards the opposing team, chuuya's team, instead your own program's team.

you were insistent about it as they dragged you through the crowd of students, and as you weave through, you get separated from your friends so you decide to step aside, leaning against a wall to catch your breath and hopefully spot your friends somewhere in this sea of excited and hyped up students.

instead of your friends, you notice him again, and this time much closer and gazing around as if searching for someone.

your eyes widen, and you realize with surprise that he seems to be.. looking for you?

suddenly, he walks over to you, his steps determined but unhurried. your heart pounds in your chest as he approaches, his piercing blue eyes set on yours, and when he reaches you, he pauses with a smile.

“hey, you okay?” he asks first, noticing how you were all alone by a wall amongs the throng of students exiting the gymnasium after the match, “where are your friends?”

“huh? oh, uh, yeah. there's so many people that i lost sight of my friends, and i just needed to step aside a bit,” you stammer out, feeling quite overwhelmed.

“oh, i'm sorry to hear that. here, let's head over there.” he says, his hand holding your arm as he guides you somewhere where it was less crowded.

“you good now?” chuuya asks you with a friendly smile, “i saw you in the stands, and i know you're rooting for the pharmacy's team, but did you enjoy the game?”

“yeah,” you manage out, “my friends were even talking about you.”

“good things, i hope,” he says with a playful glint in his eye that made your heart leap.

you laugh, the tension in your shoulders easing, “yeah, good things.”

he now leans against the wall beside you as he asks, "do you come to these games often, or was today a special occasion?"

you shake your head in response, chuckling a bit, “i'm not really a fan of sports to be honest. my friends just dragged me here."

"well, i'm glad they did," he says, his eyes twinkling with genuine interest.

you find yourself captivated to chuuya's easy charm and genuine warmth as the discussion flows between you two. as you two converse, you notice the crowd of students thinning out and your friends who were looking for you, waving at you from the entrance, and maybe even gushing over you being with the athlete. (and you make a mental note to smack the hell outta your friends for sure.)

chuuya lifts his gaze and spots your friends, “oh hey, those are your friends right?”

“mhm, i gotta go,” you say immediately as you flash him a friendly yet albeit shy smile, “thanks for keeping me company.”

“no problem,” he nods with a smile. chuuya looked as if he still had something to say, but you already sprinted off to your friends at the entrance of the gymnasium.

chuuya stands there, unable to contain a laugh as he smiles at you, watching you crash in your friends, smacking one of them as they laugh and reunited with you.

he finds it nice to meet someone who's here for more than just the game. he could tell.

days have passed with your thoughts constantly returning to the gymnasium, to the moment the athlete's gaze met yours, the moment he talked to you and accompanied you.

your friends did in fact notice you daydreaming but thankfully don't press you about it but goodness, did it feel like you were back in high school, as if you weren't even at college, with him on your mind.

it is currently afternoon, and you find yourself walking towards the campus library to study some lessons by yourself as your friends have already left and went their own ways after class.

you grabbed your ID for scanning as you approached the entrance of the library, when you saw a familiar figure standing by the steps, seemingly engrossed in another conversation with another student.

however, your feet stop on their own, your heart skipping a beat the same way it did days ago as you recognize the redhead from the basketball match you watched with your friends—nakahara chuuya.

he was dressed casually today, and boy was it a stark contrast to the intense athlete you saw on the court.

you gulp to yourself, and considered turning back now, but your curiosity and determination kept you rooted in place. and so, you walk past him, at least attempt to as you clutched your tablet and bag with you, trying to come off as nonchalant and casual.

but you couldn't help but take just a single glance, and that was all it took for your knees to grow weak as chuuya's gaze averted and met yours. for a split second, neither of you move, and you swear he took your breath again as he flashes you a warm, and friendly smile.

your cheeks flush almost instantly with warmth. this is the first time you saw him this upclose and so you immediately duck into the library, mentally cursing yourself for acting like a flustered higher schooler who just saw her crush. you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, and look for a table around the library, choosing a somewhat secluded area so you could begin studying.

you put down your tablet on the table and sit down, opening important files and notes but damnit was it hard to focus. the words on the screen blur together as you mind couldn't help but replay the brief encounter you just had just now.

minutes later into your studying, the chair beside yours shifted. you glance up and saw chuuya again, just right beside you as he placed down his own bag on the table you were occupying.

“hey,” he says softly, “mind if i join you?”

your heart pounds like crazy as your eyes widen. you nod, but immediately shake your head no as you realized, “no! not at all.”

he chuckles softly at your response as he takes a seat beside you, “i saw you at the game the other day.”

you nod softly, trying to find your voice as you fidgeted the pen of your tablet, “err, yeah. you were amazing on the court, by the way.”

“thank you, it's nice to always have support from the crowd. even if they aren't the same program as me,” chuuya says with another chuckle as scratched the nape of his neck.

god, was his presence calming and electrifying at the same time, and it was almost hard to believe he was right here, breathing in the same air as you.

“so, what are you studying?” he asks, glancing at your tablet's screen.

“oh, uh. chemistry.” you reply, trying to steady your voice as you look at him, “it's one of my major subs.”

chuuya raises a brow at you, and looks impressed, “that's an intense subject. i don't think i can handle that. i'm more of a mathematics kind of a guy to be honest, more on physics though.”

you giggle softly, feeling more at ease as you two continue talking, “that's okay. everyone has their own strengths, yeah?”

“yeah,” he agrees as he leans back into his chair and grin, “you know, i've never really been into academics, but clearly you are. that's why i play basketball.”

“but it works out for you, right?” you say softly as you recall the memory of him dominating the court once more, “you still need to keep up with your studies though.”

“mhm,” chuuya nods at your words, “yeah, but balancing both is a challenge to be honest. we have a GPA to maintain to stay on the team. so you could say it keeps me motivated to study.”

you're about to respond but chuuya's phone suddenly buzzes from the table. he glances at you with a cute sheepish yet frown on his face, “sorry, i need to take this. it's probably my coach.”

chuuya leaves you for a moment, leaving you to your thoughts but when he returns a few minutes later, he appears a little disoriented about something, but still attentive to you. “sorry about that, but my coach called to say we have practice again.”

your face falters into a look of disappointment, “oh, it's okay.”

“i'm really sorry,” chuuya says, feeling guilty to leave you so soon, but you couldn't help but feel your heart skip about this fact.

“thanks for sitting with me though. it was nice.. while it lasted,” you say, stifling a quiet giggle to lighten up the mood.

he smiles warmly now upon hearing your giggle, and gosh it sounded like chimes of bells in chuuya's ears, “yeah, it was. maybe we can do this again sometime?”

your eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment you were speechless. nakahara chuuya, number twenty-nine, one of the school athletes, is asking you to meet with him again?

you immediately nod, a bit too eager, but not that he minds at all, “i'd love to.”

“great!” chuuya chimes, laughing as he slings his backpack over his shoulder in a hurry, “well, i gotta run now before the coach makes me do 50 push-ups or something.”

“okay, okay. see you around?” you giggle at his antics, smiling widely now.

“yeah, see you aroun—” chuuya was about to run off when he immediately returned back to you, making your eyes widen again in surprise and confusion.

“your name,” chuuya says a bit too quickly. it was almost like he was rapping, “i forgot to ask your name.”

“(surname) (name), from pharmacy.”

“got it, you probably already know me, but chuuya. nakahara chuuya, from business ad.” he says with a wink before leaving a second time, and this time for good.

you watch him leave the library in a hurry, something that makes your heart flutter as you shake your head to yourself. you return your attention back to your tablet, and gosh, it becomes even more difficult to concentrate. you find yourself thinking about the brief encounter you've had with him again, every word exchanged, and the way his smile made your heart skip.

you really were feeling so high school again, and that's for sure.

the next few days were a flurry of lessons and brief visits to the gym, hoping to catch another glimpse of chuuya training. each time, your heart skips a beat, but you remind yourself to remain focused.

you do not want to appear too eager or desperate, but it was a fine line between expressing interest and coming over too strongly.

as you're packing your belongings at the library to head home after studying as per usual, a notification appears on your phone. it was a text from an unknown number.

you blink for a moment before you read the text in your mind, and your eyes slowly widen, “hi! it's chuuya, remember? from the court and library? i got your phone number from a friend. hope that's okay?”

you feel your heart race once more. (it was becoming a habit for your poor heart to be honest.) all you could think about was how chuuya got your number? and from whom? but a part of you already had an idea.

either way, you shake those questions away from your head as you text him back.

“hi, chuuya! it's ok with me. how are you? :)”

your phone buzzes as your text receives a reply.

“am good! just finished practice. wanted to see if you're free to grab a coffee with me?”

coffee. with chuuya. the mere thought sends a chill through you, but it was a good kind of thrill—one that made your tummy do flips and your face flush with warmth.

“sure, i'd love to! when and where if ever?”

chuuya's response was so immediate, “how about tomorrow afternoon? i don't have any classes tomorrow and there's a cafe near campus that you might like.”

“sounds good! my classes end at 1pm tomorrow.”

from then, the anticipation grows as you count down the hours until your coffee meeting with chuuya. you even spend a little extra time getting ready for tomorrow, ensuring that you look your best without going overboard.

and when you finally arrive at the café he texted you yesterday, you see him right away. chuuya was waiting at the entryway, casually clothed yet still looking effortlessly suave. he flashes you a smile and waves as you approach him, and you get that familiar flutter in your chest.

“you came! here, lemme get the door for ya’,” chuuya says with a smile, holding the door open for you.

the aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries is soothing, as you and chuuya pick a comfortable corner table to relax inside. you order your drinks and discuss everything from favorite books to future goals, and the conversation between you flows naturally.

everything feels natural, every smile, every laugh, and ever gaze, it was as if you've known one another for much longer than a few encounters, and you can't help but think about the slow burn of your feelings for chuuya, which was undeniable, and you wonder whether he feels the same way.

but for the time being, you're satisfied to enjoy his company, savoring each moment as you learn more about the athlete who has piqued your interest.

and it becomes even more evident when this simple coffee date becomes a constant between you two—he comes to wherever you are, whether you're in the library or at a cafe.

it was strange, but it was also comforting.

“mind if i join you, (nickname)?” he even calls you by your nickname now at this point as he stands by your table.

“sure,” you smile at him, trying to sound as casual as possible as you gesture at the empty seat across you.

chuuya sits down, and you notice he is clutching a physics book. he sees you staring at him and his book, and chuckles, "i have an exam coming up, so i thought i'd get some studying done.”

you nod, feeling a little more relaxed, “i feel you, but mine's chemistry.”

for the next hour, the two of you will sit together, exchanging a few words and smiles. there's a comfortable silence between you, broken only by the sounds of books turning and coffee cups clinking in the cafe.

you steal glances at him every now and then, seeing how focused he appears, and you can't help but appreciate his commitment to study regardless of being an athlete. it shows that he really values balancing both.

eventually, chuuya stretches his arms and leans back in his chair in a sigh, “damn, i think i’ve had enough of physics for today. how about you?”

“yeah, my brain feels like mush now to be honest,” you reply which makes him snicker.

“say, wanna leave the cafe and take a walk around campus? i could use some fresh air.” chuuya suggests, shoveling his textbook back in his backpack.

you both agree, and you leave the café together, going across the campus grounds and you find yourself laughing more than usual, and you notice how at ease you are around him.

as you two reach a quiet spot near the gates, chuuya pauses and looks at you, “you know, i’m really glad we met. it’s nice to talk to someone who’s not just about sports or partying.”

you smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest, “i feel the same way, chuuya.”

the days are another a blur of exams and studying, but your mind keeps returning to chuuya, and chuuya alone.

the warmth of your conversations and the fun every time you two studied and grabbed coffees remained in your memory, making it difficult to focus, making your heart constantly in a flutter that you now find yourself seeking for him around campus, hoping to meet him again, hoping to see him before you day starts and before it ends. it was an overwhelming feeling you couldn't help but long for.

as you’re leaving the classroom with your tote bag and tablet in hand you hear a familiar voice calling your name.

“(name)!” you quickly turn around, already knowing and seeing chuuya jogging towards you, his face lighting up with that ever familiar, heart skipping genuine smile.

you smile back as you tilt your head to the side, “hey, chuuya! what’s up?”

he catches up to you, slightly out of breath as he breathes, “i.. i was hoping i’d run into you. thank god i did. do you have a minute?”

“sure. i have a few more minutes before my next class,” you say, curiosity piqued.

“great. perfect.” he pants out, catching his breath now this time.

you turn around for a second to see your friends silently gushing over you and chuuya which you shot them a glare for, making them quietly giggle and leave you two be as they headed to the next class.

with a quiet giggle, you return your attention back to chuuya and he seems a bit nervous now, which is unusual for him. after a brief moment of collecting his thoughts (and breath), he looks at you with a mixture of excitement and hesitation.

“okay, so we have another game coming up this weekend,” he begins, his eyes locking onto yours, “and it’s a pretty big one, as you know. we’re playing against one of the top teams in the league outside campus, against another university this time.”

“that sounds exciting,” you reply, genuinely interested, “i’m sure you’ll do great as always!”

chuuya chuckles, but there’s a seriousness in his gaze, “i hope so. but, uh, i was wondering if you’d come watch the game.”

“of course i'll watch! i only have classes in the morning.” you respond without hesitation, smiling widely, “i’d love to.”

however, chuuya stares down at his hands for a while, as if to gather his courage, before returning his gaze to you, his tone becoming sheepish, “but, i, um.. would prefer if you could come alone to watch this time without your friends.”

you blink in surprise taken aback by the request. just you? without your friends?

“huh? but, why?”

chuuya rubs the back of his neck awkwardly now, a sheepish grin appearing on his face, “i guess i just want to know you’re there, watching. look, i know it is kind of stupid, but i feel like having you there might give me that extra bit of confidence. and… i’d like to hang out with you after the game, just the two of us.”

your cheeks warm at his words, and a soft smile spreads across your face, “i see. well, i'd be more than happy to come, chuuya.”

chuuya's expression lights up, and you notice a mix of relief and something deeper in his eyes, “great! okay, so the game is this saturday at 3PM. i’ll save you a seat, and no need to pay anything. okay? i got it covered.”

“i’ll be there,” you promise, reaching for his arm as a form of reassurance, and he smiles before you scurry back to your friends who you whacked in the head for eavesdropping.

“stop eavesdropping at us!”

“you're watching a game without us?!”

eventually, the day of the game arrives, and you find yourself in the gymnasium without your friends, which makes you somewhat anxious since you're not used to watching a game, let alone without being your friends as you do.

as you head over to your seat which chuuya reserved for you, you scan the court and notice chuuya warming up, and gosh did your mouth become dry at the attractive sight of him stretching his muscular arms.

your cheeks grow warm and he catches your eye from across the gym and waves, his smile widening as he sees you. you wave back, nervous and excited, but also flustered as you wondered if he knew you were staring at him while he was warming up because that was one of the most attractive things you've ever seen in your life.

the game finally begins, and you watch nervously, holding your breath as chuuya moves across the court with the basketball. every dribble, pass, and shot appears to have a unique significance, as if he is motivated by the fact that you are watching him.

chuuya's presence on the court is already commanding from the moment the first whistle reverberates across the pavilion. the opposition team immediately realizes that stopping him will not be a simple feat. as the basketball game progresses, you marvel once again at how chuuya weaves among defenders with such ease.

chuuya’s first play is a tremendous display of such skill and he dominates the court as if he knows it like the back of his hand. he receives a pass from his teammate, fakes left, and then spins to the right, leaving his defender momentarily disoriented. and then, with a swift, fluid motion, he dribbles past two more opponents and makes a flawless layup.

the crowd goes wild in cheers, and you can’t help but cheer and clap along with the audience at the sheer precision of his moves, and chuuya's play just becomes more heated from there, because he can hear you loud and clear, he knows you're there for him.

it becomes even more swift and methodical, with each pass and dribble meticulously planned. he silently communicated with his teammates as if he had telepathy, meticulously scanning the court for openings and potential steals from the opposing team.

it was clear all of his moves were with deftness that only comes from hours of practice and a natural understanding of the game as chuuya steals the ball from an opponent with a well-timed swipe before fluidly transitioning into offense, leading a fast break that finishes in another successful basket.

the game eventually approaches its climax, and the tension across the court is now almost unbearable. chuuya’s team is up by a narrow margin, and every move now feels more critical than ever as you can hear the beat of the drums from the sides, which builds up in intensity.

with only a few mere seconds left on the clock, chuuya dribbles to the top of the key, sizing up his defender. the opposing team’s defense tightens around him, but chuuya remains calm, his focus unshakable. he makes a decisive move, spinning around his defender and launching a shot from beyond the arc.

you feel a rush of nostalgia through your veins as you recall the first time you ever saw him, back in the campus, as time seems to slow down—remembering everything like a flashback as the ball arcs through the air in a familiar way to you, and you hold your breath as it swishes through the basket, securing the victory for his team.

your heart leaps from your chest as the last whistle blows, echoing across the atmosphere and the gymnasium erupts with cheers and applause. chuuya's teammates all rush to congratulate him, carrying him onto their shoulders as the crowd roars in appreciation and you watch with a sense of pride and excitement.

as his team celebrates with their trophy and flashes of cameras, you initially expect chuuya to be absorbed in the aftermath of the game.

but then, you see him breaking away from the crowd, leaving his teammates behind, his eyes scanning the sea of faces in the audience and when he finally sees you, a look of determination crosses his face, and he starts making his way towards you, weaving through players across the court.

you heart races with familiarity as you realize he’s coming straight for you instead of the trophy that you involuntarily stand up from the seat chuuya reserved for you.

the noise of the crowd fades into the background as chuuya closes the distance between you, and when chuuya finally reaches you, he’s out of breath but smiling with an intensity as he exclaims excitedly, “there you are!”

before you can react, chuuya suddenly moves closer to you and, in an exciting and unexpected moment, leans in and slams his lips against yours.

the kiss is both gentle and passionate, taking you off guard but feeling perfectly natural, but it's as if all of your silent emotions were released in one beautiful moment, an exchange of silent 'i love you's' as his arms wrap around you in a tight embrace.

chuuya pulls back with both of you breathless and a bit dazed from the sudden kiss, his eyes are filled with a mixture of relief and affection while yours was of surprise and excitement, and he looks at you with a smile that makes your heart flutter.

“i’m really, really glad you’re here,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand reaching for the strand of hair on your face to tuck it behind your ear.

you nod, your cheeks flushed and a smile across your face, as you whisper back, “me too.”

despite the noise reverberating across the pavilion from the aftermath of the match, you and chuuya stand close together, breathless, having such an intimate and exhilarating moment like this, and you find it as the perfect finale to your growing slow-burn relationship, and looking into his eyes fills you with anticipation for what comes next.

“let's get outta here,” he whispers to your ear, his breath sending you tingles.

you ask as his hand drifts from your arm to your waist instead, a smile growing on your face, “but what about your team? or the trophy?”

“fuck the trophy, i've already got mine,” chuuya chuckles as he squeezes your waist as if to emphasize his words before he captures your lips in another kiss.

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yoonmetogether · 23 days ago

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Not In the Cards Prelude pt. 1

pairing: gambler!Yoongi x !fem reader genre: strangers-to-lovers, age gap, intro to mafia/bodyguard au summary: how it all started. you won all of his money at poker, he hates you for it, but you find yourself hiding in a closet with him. (This is rlly e2l2e2l lol) warnings: alcohol, mild derogatory language, yoongi's an asshole, reader antagonizes him, motorcycle riding, gambling, smoking, drinking, smut, quickie in a janitor’s closet 🥴, insane bickering, usage of sl*t, yoongi and those red chopsticks from haegeum, a smidge of violence (not towards each other), implied parental absence, scars, reader mentions a minor injury from a car crash wc: 10.2k minors dni. 18+ only thanks to my beta reader @yoonglesyeobo and also to @syllviere for their help and support! <333

prologue l ch. 1 play nice l prelude. strangers 1/2 l prelude. strangers 2/2 l ch. 2 l

You picked a great time to fly back home - smack dab in the middle of monsoon season. Of all the light things you packed in your backpack and duffle bag, you forgot an umbrella.

And the first thing you did once you set foot on the mainland soil of your Jeju pit stop, was ask your driver to take you to the Sehwa beach on the east coast. But the cash you had got you only about three-quarters of the way there, so you were dropped off into the one part of town you’re familiar with. Memories of happier times dance around the streets as you walk down them, on your way to the place you know best. Even though it will remind you of how things once were and never will be again, you go because it’s the only place you know where you can earn money without really having to work for it.

You’re soaked to the bone when you walk into the bar. The lights are low and dimmed with a green hue and floating smoke. It’s loud with banter as men get drunk on this gloomy Friday night.

You find an ATM near the bathrooms and withdraw 700,000 won.

“Hi, sweetie. Are you lost?” one of the pretty waitresses asks as she approaches you in a short apron and even shorter skirt, lips painted a vibrant ruby. Her silky bob is curled just above a black choker around her neck, and she glances down as you slide your wad of cash into your wallet, sliding it in your jacket pocket.

“Uh, no. Can I get a drink and a seat please?”

She looks at you with apprehension laced in her polite expression. “There’s a much quieter bar a few blocks down the street. You might have a better time there.”

“I appreciate that, but I’m actually looking to win some money.”

“I see,” she says after a pause, giving you a onceover. “Are you old enough?”

Yeah, an illegal gambling ring probably wouldn’t want to get tacked on with another charge of hosting minors if the cops were ever smart enough to come snooping around a place like this. You pull out your ID and hand it to her, watching as she holds it up and you know just what she’s looking for because you’ve used a fake to get in here before.

The corner of her mouth lifts in a small smile as she passes it back to you. She turns around and beckons you forward with two fingers in the air, leading you through the bar and as you trail behind her, nostalgia walks with you.

At the bar was where you took your first shot, had your first cigarette, in spite of your brother’s protests, and the den downstairs that you’re heading to was where you won your first real hand at poker. It’s still the same old musty, dusty, probably moldy basement that you remember, but now the ghosts of your past linger in the air so it’s hard to go through without getting a little misty-eyed.

As you step off the stairs, the waitress is surveying the room. It’s much more crowded and loud than upstairs since there are high stakes all around. You strain your neck, looking for an empty chair but they’re all occupied by men with too much time and not enough money to lose.

“Well, all of the tables are full right now, but I can set you up with a drink at the bar while you wait for an opening.”

“What about the table in the back?” Her eyes narrow.

“That’s for more experienced players.” Leaning against the railing, you hum, check your manicure.

“I’ll cut you twenty percent of my win if you get me in there.”

Her eyebrows lift in surprise. “You’re that confident?”

“This is where I learned how to play pro. I win more than I lose.”

She looks you up and down again, like she can’t figure you out.

“Make it twenty-five.”

“Deal,” you grin and she mirrors you, flashing her teeth.

“Follow me.”

You pull your damp hoodie further over your head in an attempt to shield your face as you follow her through the maze of tables towards a door in the far corner of the low-ceiling room. It’s slightly obscured by the counter and sheer, moth-eaten curtains that match the shitty wall color, and you thank the waitress when she pulls them to the side to direct you through. She then leads you into a small hallway but pauses right before the second door frame.

“I have to tell you, these men aren’t exactly their mothers’ favorite.”

You shrug. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

“Alright, well if you change your mind…”

“Thanks, but I won’t. I owe you that big tip.”

She smiles. “Don’t let me down, girlie.”

“Is there room for one more, gentlemen?” Her voice carries over the cocksure babble of the middle-aged men surrounding the round, green-felt table, littered with scattered poker chips, worn ashtrays and crystal glasses of whiskey. You’re met with a thick cloud of smoke as you approach an empty seat at the table. They all fall quiet as you pull down your hood, revealing your wet hair and the fact that you are not one of them.

A collective muttering of derision rises as you pull out the chair but you act completely unbothered, unzipping your drenched coat and shrugging it off. You fish your wallet out of your jacket and pass all of your cash to the attendant who exchanges it for chips.

“What do you know about poker?” one of the men prods.

"Plenty. Deal me in. What’s the ante?”

“I think you’re wasting your time,” another cuts in. “You should go see if they have a kiddie table.”

The men shove elbows into each other in raucous laughter at your expense but it doesn’t affect you at all.

“Let her play.”

You look up at the new voice. Gravelly. Gruff. Tempting.

Shit. How did you miss… him? The youngest man in the room, the one with parts of his face shadowed by the god-awful, dim lighting, has not taken his eyes off of you since you walked in. You can tell by the way the bumps on your skin prickle every time your attention flickers in his direction and your eyes catch. His hair is orangey, as much of it that pokes out from under his black beanie, and he’s wearing a black varsity jacket with white stitching on the front that makes him stand out among the rest of the men’s unflattering suits and loose ties.

He lifts his cigarette, takes a drag, and blows it out, blinking between you and two black poker chips he taps on the table.

You glare at the subtle smirk on his lips as he says, “Easy win.”

This will be fun.

The first few rounds you do get shit hands, but you bet on them anyway, enduring the condescension that leers from the entire table each time. The only one who doesn’t laugh is the one you can’t stop stealing glances at, the one who just nonchalantly smokes and places bets and looks at his cards, and occasionally stares right back. Makes your heart flip. You’ve noticed, though, from watching him a few times, that when the flop is laid out and it’s time for the first bets, if he blinks a little erratically while staring at his hand, he folds soon after. You fold on a two-pair after checking, and the players get a kick out of that when you reveal that you had a potentially winning hand. You pretend to be super bummed. But now you’ve got them right where you want them.

So far, you’ve bet the majority of your money but you’re fairly certain that won’t matter in a few minutes. In your hand, you hold an 8 and 2 of Diamonds. On the table, lies a ten of Spades, six of Clubs, 4 and Queen of Diamonds, and three of hearts. You school your expression. One more diamond card and it’s a flush. You look up and it seems the majority of the table has folded, but ‘kiddie table’ man and ��beanie with a mean stare’ man are still in the running. Both of their hands have been good so far, but ‘beanie with a mean stare’ has won most of the rounds. This is the last one and you’re running out of time to win all of it back. You feign a nervous glance around the table before you check. ‘Kiddie’ checks as well and you wait for ‘mean beanie’ to follow suit but instead, he scoots the rest of his chips in to raise the bet. Huh. He’s getting cocky, going all in. He only blinked once when the dealer laid down the flop, so you suspect he has a good hand. But not a great one, so you’ll raise the stakes. The men mutter in amusement when you match his bet and he lifts a brow, but the rest of his expression remains neutral. The dealer asks if that’s the final bet, and when no one responds, he flips the fifth card. Your heart jumps.

A nine of Diamonds.

‘Kiddie’ goes first and displays his three-of-a-kind. Hm. Not bad. You glance over to ‘mean beanie,’ waiting for him to make the next move but he only stares at you, unblinking, a thin line between his lips. You take a deep breath and put on a sheepish smile while flattening your cards near the center of the table so everyone can see.

“Is this a flush?” They all still, and you fail to fight off a grin when their many pairs of eyes go back and forth between the river and your two low rank cards that add up to a high rank hand.

‘Mean beanie’ is now staring at his cards, a noticeable tick in his jaw and you know you’ve won. He tosses them down with a quick flick of his wrist and you can’t help your smirk at his obvious dejection. You observe his 5 of Hearts and 7 of Spades.

“Oh, a straight? How nice.” Your head tilts mockingly. “You almost beat me.”

He frowns and you feel enthralled, resisting the urge to blow him a demeaning kiss. With a content sigh, you lean forward to scrape your scored chips towards you, holding your arms out like a hoop to move them all because there’s just that many. You stand as an attendant appears to retrieve your chips to count and trade for the table’s cash. You think you’ll get a nice hotel room to shelter from the storm.

“It was a pleasure playing with you gentlemen,” you say politely as you stand. “I’ll enjoy spending your money.”

The devilish grin you send to all of them lingers on ‘mean beanie’ who is now refusing to look at you. There’s a pep in your step as you stride up to the attendant behind the counter near the door, waiting for him to cash you out.

You watch as the men file out, glaring at you and muttering bitter curses amongst themselves. You shrug it off. Serves them right for underestimating you just because you’re a young woman. You may have been putting on an act, but men run the world.

Shouldn’t they have been smart enough to pick up on that?

‘Beanie’ is the last one to go, head ducked as he pulls out his phone. He’s still in the hallway when you exit, backpack stacked with 10 million won. His foot is on the bottom step as he types furiously on his device.

“Hey, good game,” you say in a light tone as you pass him, but there’s too much sass in your smile to seem genuine. “And you’re right. That was an easy win.”

He lifts his head slowly, eyes narrowed in a vicious glare, pockets his phone and takes a step up. It makes your heart speed when he comes nearly face to face with you, and you can see him in this mildly better lighting.

“How’d you pull that off, huh? You count cards?” He’s pretty much seething but fucking hell, he's attractive.

“No,” you blink innocently, living for the ferocity in his darkened eyes. “I just count on men to be dumb enough to believe a pretty girl like me doesn’t know how to gamble. Thanks for being so full of yourself that you can’t see through a sham like that.”

His jaw ticks as his glare rakes up and down your form.

“You’re full of yourself, too. You’re not that pretty.”

It’s a cheap shot, but it’s obvious he’s just trying to make himself feel better by hurting your feelings because he has nothing else.

“Aww, you sound like a sore loser. Do you want to go back in there? Try to win some back?”

“I’m done playing for the night.” He still hasn’t gotten out of your face and the scent of his earthy cologne with traces of cigarette smoke is doing unhealthy things to your blood pressure.

“Understandable. It would suck to get your ass beat by a girl twice in a row.”

He's radiating with vexation but it doesn’t intimidate you in the slightest. If anything, it’s making him more attractive, which makes you think you should do some deep, serious internal reflection. His nostrils flare just before he swivels on his heel to face the steps.

“Oh, by the way, I noticed that you blink a lot when you get a bad hand. You should work on that.”

His head jerks to you, seeming to take offense to that. He looks you up and down again, scowls, and starts up the stairs.

“Maybe with your money, I’ll buy some expensive makeup to doll myself up better!” You call up.

“You’d need a lot!”

Fucking liar. You cackle as he jogs up the rest of the way.

******* Upstairs, he’s already out of sight. You relocate the waitress who greets you expectantly, an enthusiastic grin breaking out on her face when you pull out your winnings. She gives you a small cheer and while you sit at the bar to count out her cut, she makes you a drink on the house.

Once you finish it, you check the time and realize you shouldn’t hang around here for much longer. And you’re starting to feel the effects of jet lag now that you’ve got your money problems squared away. But of course you left your jacket downstairs. You ask the waitress if you can go get it.

“Sure, but come right back.”

In the hallway, you falter when you hear a one-sided conversation, spoken by that low stony voice that tickles your brain. You peek your nosy head around the corner, pulse spiking with a thrill when you see ‘beanie’ standing on the other side of the room, next to another hallway.

“The fuck do you mean it didn’t go through?

As he listens on the other line, he hangs his head, fingers digging into his eyes in what appears to be frustration before dropping them on his hip.

“Shit, are you serious?... Can you just send me some for a plane ticket? I’ll pay you back...” He sighs dejectedly. “Fine. See you back home.”

He curses again, louder this time, and you take that as your cue to saunter into the room, pretending you don’t notice him as you head for the table.

“You stalking me?” You blow a raspberry, leaning down to grab your jacket from the chair and hold it up for him to see.

“As if. You’re not that interesting. And you’re a sore loser,” you tack on. “Not my type.”

(Straight up lies.)

“Well, you’re fucking annoying.”

“Thank you!” You exclaim, hand on your chest like you’re honored. “I’ve worked so hard to be.”

He glowers at you and you really want to laugh. Why is he so angry? It’s not like you stole his money. Tricked him? Maybe, but you can’t exactly be fair in a place like this. His head shakes as he passes by you for the exit.

“So I really won all of your money, huh? And now you’re strapped for cash?” He pauses, slides narrowed eyes your way, and stuffs his hands in his jacket.

“Mind your business.”

“What? It just sounds like you’re in a tough spot, especially with the big storm coming later. I’d hate to think that you’re stranded in torrential downpour with nowhere to go all because some mid-looking girl took your money.”

“Don’t patronize me,” he snaps.

“How is that patronizing? I’m just saying, I’m sorry you fell for my dirty little trick, but I can help you out if you want.”

He strides into your space and you step back, heart pounding when he gets in your face again. There’s a dangerous look in his eyes but you’re not at all threatened.

“I don’t need shit from you.” You tip your head up and bat your eyelashes, sneaking a glance at his lips, pink and plush and enticing.

“Okay,” you shrug nonchalantly, failing to fight off a small smirk. Warmth creeps up from your cheeks to your ears when his blown out pupils flash down to your mouth. And the tension in between you transforms with a feral magnetism.

His tongue darts out to his bottom lip and your eyes widen a fraction at the sight.

“You’re really aggravating, you know that?”

“You can walk away.” His head tilts at your challenge and the magnetism grows when he doesn’t move.

Just then, your heads turn towards the stairs when voices and footsteps start to descend.

He grabs your arm and tugs you around the corner and to the end of the hallway, whipping open a small door and stepping inside before pulling you along with him. Your nose wrinkles at the odious smell of industrial cleaning agents.

“What are you doing?”

“Shut up,” he hisses, tugging you away from the door to the adjacent side of the small and dark closet. “No one’s supposed to be down here now that they’ve closed things up.”

“Oh,” you whisper, settling against the wall. “You don’t really strike me as the type to follow the rules.”

“I’m not,” he grits, voice deep enough to not be heard easily. “But I know that consequences still apply if I get caught.”

“Well, this isn’t how I expected to spend my Friday night,” you huff with a cross of your arms. “Holed up in some janitor’s closet with a common criminal.”

“You’re one too, y’know. You committed a felony just by stepping foot in here. And then another, when you won all that money.”

You mimic that last sentence in a childish tone and his chest heaves in a huff.

“Will you be quiet?”

“Am I pissing you off?”

“You have been since the first goddamn minute you walked in.”

“If I annoy you that much, you could’ve just hidden in here yourself and left me out there to get in trouble.”

“I still have time. I could push you out now.”

“Do it then.”

A silence follows, like he’s contemplating. Hesitating. That magnetism comes back to buzz and burn.

“Or maybe, and I’m just spitballing here, you wanted an excuse to get me alone in this dark, tight space?”

He scoffs. “You’re delusional.”

“Hm. Then why are you so close? There’s more than enough room for the both of us to have space.”

When he doesn’t say anything, unease pinches your gut when you think you’ve gotten ahead of yourself and misread things. You can’t help that his whole broody, pissed off vibe turns you on for some reason. So you move to get away from him, create some space now that you’re embarrassed but his hand finds the crook of your elbow and stops you. Heat floods your cheeks for a whole different reason.

“What are you trying to get at?” You smile, heart pounding with nerves because you know his rejection would sting like hell. But you’re not about to let his attitude shit on your confidence.

“C’mon, you’re not that dumb.” His fingers dig into your arm, not enough to hurt but enough to feel that you’ve pinched a nerve.

You gasp when he pushes your arm until your back hits the wall and you stare at the silhouette of his face, his hand lifting above your head. Blood rushes in your ears when he leans in so close that his warm breath fans down to your chin.

“You wanna be fucked in here like a slut? Is that it?”

Holy mother of fuck. The way he said that - husky, dark, low but so intense has to be a sin.

“Can you even get it up this late at night, old man?”

“Who the fuck are you calling old?” He snaps. “You’ve got to be at least 30.”

He better be joking! “What does that make you, then? 45? 50?”

“Try 27.”

“Huh. You’re still a lot older than me.” You don’t find that hot.

“By how much?” he queries, a bit of apprehension in his tone.

“5 years.”

He exhales sharply, a breath of relief. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Is almost 30 too early to have ‘dysfunctional’ problems?”

Large hands on your hips force you to turn around and face the wall, and you plant your palms on it with a gasp when he grinds his clothed erection on the swell of your ass.

“Does this feel ‘dysfunctional’ to you?” he growls, grinding against you again, slower this time but harsher so you can feel all of what’s swelling in his pants. He’s big, because of course he is, and you figure by the end of this, you’ll be the dysfunctional one.

“I-I don’t know,” you stutter, throat suddenly dry. He chuckles, and it’s like a jolt of thunder worthy of a hurricane storming through every seed of your nerves.

Sighing, he leans into you, chest barely brushing your back, and returns his hand to the wall above your head, ducking his chin to breathe down your neck and you gasp again as he rolls his hips once more while muttering darkly into your ear,

“Do you want to find out?” A shiver bolts down your spine, and your center starts to throb with sinful desire.

Getting fucked on a Friday night in a cleaning closet by a common criminal is definitely not something you expected to be doing on your trip back home. But you don’t want it to go in any other way.

“Mhmm.”

“Is that supposed to be a word?”

“Yes!” You whisper yell.

“Yes, what?” he emphasizes, tone gritty and a touch dominating.

“Yes, I want to find out.”

Quiet passes for a minute and you think he’s in the middle of rethinking things, but then he manhandles you to the side of the closet opposite from the door, and you put out your hands to feel that you’re pressed into a set of shelves holding big ass rolls of paper towels or something.

He tugs at the hem of your pants. “Take these off.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I’m giving you a chance to change your mind,” he mutters.

Huh. You hesitate only because that was unexpected. But you weren’t planning on changing anything. Without a word, you undo the clasp on your jeans and reach back to find his hand, taking note of the insane electricity that surges through you once you touch him, and bring it back to your waist, silent permission that he can continue. Nothing is said as he slides your pants down your ass, and you wait for him to work on his own jeans but instead you feel his fingers trickle on the inside of your upper thigh, and your breath hitches as he inches closer to your heat. You spread your legs and arch your back to give him indication to touch you. He cups your mound, and you lurch forward with a moan, grabbing the shelf to hold onto for dear life.

“You better stay quiet,” he grumbles. “Because if you get us caught, I’ll tell them I found out you were counting cards.”

“And you were fucking me as punishment?” you challenge over your shoulder, but the vitriol in your sneer is extinguished when he glides a lone finger between your folds.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You’re already wet. Being a dirty slut like this turns you on?”

You don’t answer, brain malfunctioning when he starts rubbing circles over your clit, and you duck your head as it increases your arousal. A whiny moan floats out when he teases your hole and hums to himself. Your shoulders tense when he slips a digit in, shushing your louder moan as he adds another and pumps in and out to work you open. You have to hold your breath every now and then to keep your noises to yourself.

As he keeps finger-fucking you, there’s some shifting and then a slap of something falling on the floor, followed by the sound of foil tearing.

“Did you just get a condom out of your wallet?” you manage to croak.

“No, I pulled it out of thin air,” he deadpans dryly.

You roll your eyes. Men. Always staying locked and fucking loaded. And he called you a slut? You open your mouth to convey this to him, but you figure one more smart-ass comment will deny you of what you’re craving.

You salivate when you hear him undo his belt and unzip his jeans. He steps back with a faint moan, and you imagine him finally pulling himself out to roll on the condom. Shit. You know you’re in for it.

His hand finds your waist again, and he spits, loudly, before tapping his tip on your center, gathering your arousal. Your body jerks at the sensation of his head dragging through your folds and over your clit before coming back to prod your entrance, making you tense up in anticipation.

“Are you going to back out? Last chance.”

“No, I’m good.” There’s a lapse in movement and in words but then he pushes in and- fuck! It’s a stretch. You moan over a bitten tongue as your eyes squeeze shut, urgently trying to adjust.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not up for it,” he mutters quietly when your cunt refuses to cooperate, thanks to a mix of nerves.

"I am, damn it!”

“Then fucking relax.”

So you deflate your lungs, using the idea of just how good it’ll feel once he fills you up for motivation to do as he says. You let your body go almost entirely limp and he must notice because he digs his nails into your waist and guides himself in, agonizingly slow, expanding your walls with girth so fulfilling.

A low growl resonates in his chest when he sinks in all the way, fingers flexing on your naked hips as he gives time for you to adjust. His hard dick twitching within tells you that he needs a second too. For a few minutes, he fucks you at a snail’s pace while you try not to lose your shit. Then he pulls out to bend his knees, and thrusts back up into you, breathing shakily as he increases the pace.

He doesn’t take his hands off of your waist. Doesn’t grope your tits, or cup handfuls of your ass, just holds onto your hips to keep you in place, occasionally uses them to adjust his stance behind you. A part of you wishes he would because you know his large hands could work wonders on your skin, but at the same time there’s a modicum of respect coming from his restraint. You don’t know if that’s what he’s going for or if he just genuinely doesn’t want to touch you - which, ouch - but you’re pretty sure most guys would take you letting them fuck you in a closet as automatic permission to touch all parts of your body whether you asked them to or not, but apparently he’s not one of them.

There is one place, though, that you desperately need him to put his hands on and for whatever reason, he’s not.

“Are you gonna play with my clit anytime soon? Or did you, in your old age, forget where it is?” He huffs, dark and indignant in your ear.

“It’d be nice to get off at some point ton-” A hand slides over your cheek and pair of fingers gets shoved on your tongue, cutting you off.

“Shut. Your. Mouth.” Your eyes roll back at the rigid and domineering grit in his tone, and your back arches to press further into him, needy, wanting. His other hand leaves your hip to replace his fingers with a balled-up piece of fabric, and then he snakes down to the front of your waist. You have to clench down on whatever fabric he used to muffle you when he easily finds your aching nub and spreads your saliva over it before stroking in agonizing circles. Your teeth clamp down on the mysterious material to barricade a whimper.

His hips, on the other hand, start to smack against your ass with animalistic determination, like he wants to fuck you as fast as he can so he can get this over with. Which is fine by you, because it feels so fucking good. The force of his thrusts paired with the tips of his fingers rubbing your clit in rough, calculated strokes has your nails scraping on the wall due to the overwhelming pleasure building within you.

He starts to fuck you at a different angle and you almost cry out when he spears against your spot.

“There?” he asks, rocking in the same place experimentally while you clench around him. Your thighs start to shake.

“Mhmm!” you exclaim, voice muffled. He doesn’t stop fucking you there until you come, and even though you already can’t see shit, you definitely black out for a second. The material in your mouth isn’t helping your breathing situation but it’s preventing you from crying.

He hisses and then yanks out, lets go of your waist, and you involuntarily drop to your knees.

“Shit, my fault,” he mutters, but you’re focused on plucking the cloth out of your mouth, scrunching it in your palm. You weakly pull your jeans to your hips and turn around when he curses again, reaching out to find his dick as he jerks himself to completion. He stops and rips off the condom, thumb sliding up your chin and into your mouth to drop it open.

“Gonna come,” he grumbles. You nod and stick out your tongue, and using his thumb as guidance, he slides his thick mushroom head past your lips, filling your mouth with hot ropes of cum. He emits some kind of purring sound as you swallow it all down and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

After allowing a moment to accept what just happened, he steps back again and sighs heavily as he tucks himself in and fixes his belt while you wipe your mouth with the inside of your shirt. When he bends down to pick up his wallet, you wait for his hand to offer you help up off the floor, but he just turns around, leaving you to stand up on your own with shaky legs.

That’s not the vibe you were starting to get from him, but okay?

Swinging on your jacket with a bit of shame, you walk up behind him where he’s listening at the door for anyone outside, and realize that you just let this guy fuck you in a weird-smelling closet and come in your mouth before you even got his name.

“I’m Angel, by the way.”

“That’s nice," he says flatly, tone withdrawn.

“Did you flunk preschool? This would be the part where you tell me your name.”

“I'm good.” You scoff, taken aback.

"Geez, dude. After all that, you can’t even tell me your name?”

"Nah. Not like we’re ever gonna see each other again, right?” That stings. He doesn’t have the courtesy to do something normal after doing something so unorthodox?

“Whatever, prick.”

When he opens the door, you toss the fabric at him and shove into his shoulder, not looking back as you hurry towards the stairs, taking two at a time to get away from him. The waitress gives you a wary look as you stomp towards her, offering an embarrassed apology while you gather your bags. You thank her, pass her a few more bills, and make an escape to the bathroom. You refuse to look in the mirror as you get yourself together. What the fuck were you thinking?

But as the universe would have it, he’s outside under the awning because of the rain, scrolling through his phone and smoking a cigarette with a foot propped on the wall.

Without slowing down, you walk by him, pluck the cigarette from his fingers and continue down the block. At the corner, you stop abruptly, and lift the stick to your lips, take a drag, then toss it into the street, staring right at him. He frowns and with the hand not stuffed in his jean pocket, raises his middle finger and you shoot him one right back, blowing out smoke and holding back a cough. You flag down a cab with a heavy weight in your chest that crawls up to your throat and threatens to imitate the storm pouring from the clouds above.

The rain follows you into the crowded restaurant and you do your best to shake it off of your clothes and shoes before you go in. An older male server rushes by carrying a tray of soju and shot glasses, beckons you further inside and gestures over to the far end of the room where a small empty table sits in front of the window. As you weave your way towards it, you pass by groups of friends, some couples, others colleagues, all having a good time staying out of the storm together. It makes you a little bitter and a lot lonely.

You sit down with your back facing away from the reminder that you’re the only one occupying a two-person table and order a bottle of soju and a hot bowl of noodles that will take away some of the wet chill clinging to your skin.

A motorcycle zooms by. The engine sounds like a single-cylinder with a good torque. A Ducati maybe?

As you wait, you lean back in your chair, arms crossed, and stare outside, reminiscing about old times. Old friends. All a part of memories now.

A few minutes after the server delivers you a bottle of soju and you take a shot, you head to the bathroom to wash up and finally acknowledge the shame lingering in your appearance. When you emerge, passing by the bar, you’re stopped in your tracks by the face of the man who is the reason for that shame. Your heart pounds abnormally. He’s sitting a few barstools away from you, beanie gone, unveiling orange hair and roots that could use a touch up, with a black and white bandanna tied under his chin, like it was being used as a mask. Was that what he stuffed in your mouth earlier?

You stare at him as he sips some clear liquor out of a whiskey glass and when he finally notices, he, for some reason, doesn’t look that surprised to see you.

“You again,” you scowl. “Who’s stalking who now?” He shrugs.

“This is a small island.”

Your eyes roll at his shit logic.

“Well, sorry to have ruined your whole ‘we’re never gonna see each other again’ bullshit.”

He doesn't reply, just frowns into his glass. Feeling hot all over, you stew as you stomp back to your table to retrieve your wallet, fishing out a large bill that you slap on the counter once you return to the bar. The bartender comes over and you make a point of looking over at the prick while you say,

"His drinks are on me." You prolong your vengeful gaze on him, fighting your tongue when his jaw only clenches in response, and head back to your table in a huff.

You try to let it go and not sear holes through his back, instead focusing on your wonderful meal and full glass of soju. He can go to hell.

It seems that the universe has other plans in store when mid-bite, you feel a presence approach and you think it’s the server coming to check on you, but when you look up and the presence stops at your table, your heart skips at the musk that pummels your lungs and puts you in a chokehold. Because it’s the same one that enveloped you from behind not too long ago, strong enough to mask the stench of cleaning supplies. And the source of it slaps a familiar lone bill in front of you under a veiny, slender hand. He stares down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes. Glancing at the bill, you make no move to take it back or acknowledge the fact that he didn't let you pay, even though you just won a bunch of his money. What is this guy playing at?

"Take it."

"No," you shoot back, resuming your meal for an excuse not to look at him.

He sighs and you think that's the end of it.

But then he scoots into the seat across from you. Your heart flatlines when he glances at you, barely acknowledging you or your shocked expression, and cards a hand through his hair, flipping his bangs away to showcase his forehead, clear of blemishes. Isn’t that fucking typical.

“Um, can I help you?”

“The kitchen’s closing soon and I want to order something,” he says casually as he gets comfortable.

“And you’re sitting at my table because? I thought I was annoying.”

“You are,” he replies, still not looking at you but at your bowl. “But all the other tables are full.”

You scoff and take a sweep of the restaurant, desperate to catch him in a lie - surely people have left and freed up spaces since you got here. Nope. The seat across from you was the only one empty. But why does he have to be the one who fills it?

“You could just go somewhere else.”

“It’s pouring out there.”

“Afraid you’ll melt?”

He flickers a small glare your way, then moves it behind you when the bell over the entrance announces a customer’s arrival. He’s acting indifferent, like he wasn’t just a complete dick, and you don’t know what to make of it.

“So does this mean you're done being an asshole to me now?”

“You think I should be nice or something?”

“That would be a start.”

“Aren’t you not supposed to be nice to strangers? Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?”

That draws a cloudy expression over your face. “I’m sure she would’ve if she was ever around.”

He looks at you and you can see a smidge of his hostile demeanor fall away. Your attention drops to your lap, waiting for him to give the little pity party you’re used to people throwing you when they find out you have an absentee parent. But he doesn’t, just shifts in his seat and lets a little tension out of his shoulders.

“Yoongi.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you look across again, thrown for a loop. “What?”

He shrugs, juts out his bottom lip in what you think is a pout. “You wanted my name, right?”

He looks shy and, dare you say, cute saying that.

“Was that so hard? You know that makes us not strangers anymore,” you point out with a widening smile as he glowers at you.

You reach for the soju bottle but he leans forward and snatches it away. Puzzled, you withdraw your hand, but he gestures to your glass and mimes a pour. There’s uncertainty stitched between your brows as you pick up the glass and hold it out with two hands while he pours a shot. You can’t help but notice the scar etched in a jagged line across the back of his right hand turning the bottle, and you look away from it so you don’t gawk. But you’re curious.

Even though you don’t yet fully respect him, he is still 5 years older, so you turn to the side to knock the shot back. When you’re done, you silently offer to return the favor but he shakes his head, fills your glass once again and sets the bottle down, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest, glancing between you and the table with a dart of his tongue over his bottom lip.

You stare at the liquor, tips of your fingers dancing around the rim of the glass as you debate how much of your sobriety you should hold onto for the night.

“You’re not drinking?” you ask after you down the shot, wiping your chin.

“I’m driving.” You hum in acknowledgement.

“Are you gonna eat?”

He shakes his head. “I’m good.”

“I thought that was the whole point of sitting at my table.”

“I changed my mind.” Liar. He’s been eyeing your bowl ever since he sat down.

“You’re a shit liar. No wonder I cleaned you out.”

He flips you off and you just sigh. A lost cause. You catch the scar on the back of his hand again, the skin raised but healed.

The atmosphere between you since his gesture has slowed things down, setting a new pace that’s strange but not entirely unwelcome. The liquor spreading warmth in your chest loosens your inhibitions, bringing forth your curiosity.

"What happened to your hand?”

"Bar fight,” he replies a little too quickly. You don't believe that.

"Some bar fight." He rolls his eyes at your sarcasm but then his attention flickers back with a tick of his eyebrows when you lower the collar of your sweater, exposing the skin just below your right clavicle that displays your own gash.

“I got this when I used to race during my first couple years at university.” You smirk when both his brows shoot up, clearly not expecting your story. “I was drifting and my component spun out and drove me off the road and I smashed into a guardrail. He was fine, but my windshield shattered and a big piece of glass just wedged in right here.” You press a finger against the very visible healed stitching. “It hurt like a motherfucker, dug into my bone and all that, but the scar came out pretty bad ass, don’t you think?”

He tilts his head with an amused expression, as if not expecting you to sound somewhat proud of your preventable injury.

“I’m sure you were smart enough to stop racing after that.”

“Yeah, but I still went to functions and stuff. And then one night, cops busted our spot and a bunch of us got arrested. I spent a couple days in jail and my brother had to come bail me out.” You pause to think about how irate Jin had been, flying halfway across the world to pay your bond, dragging Namjoon along to fight for you not to be charged. Jin chewed you out the entire time, about how dangerous that was and how you could’ve killed somebody and yourself. Of course you knew that, but you’ve always proved to be a damn good driver, only racing on empty roads after memorizing every wind, bump, and bend. You never let him see your scar because he would find a way to never let you see the light of day again. But then he made you transfer schools and you lost touch with your racing friends. You made sure your brothers never found out your accident didn't deter you from speed racing. You were just too good and made money off of it that you couldn't give up.

“And what was that you were saying earlier about being stuck alone somewhere with a felon?” He muses sarcastically.

Glossing over that snide remark, you launch into another anecdote, regaling him in the story of the first time you ever raced when you lost horribly to your brother and he never let you live it down. And the time you were the getaway driver when your brother and your friends decided to add to the graffiti collection under a bridge near school.

“I think you’re oversharing,” he intervenes when you bring your spiel to a close.

“Would you rather sit here and talk about the weather?”

“I’d rather not talk at all.” He looks down as soon as he says it and your eyes droop into a frown. Well, so much for that. Leave it to a guy to pull stupid shit like that.

“Right,” you mutter, leaning down to pick up your bag. “All I’m good for is a fuck.”

You get out your wallet and a large chunk of the cash that you won, leaving a sum for the bill on the table. As you rise, you fold a larger wad in half and slam it down next to his hands. He glances at it before dragging his gaze up to you, blinking a few times as you harshly stare him down. You sniff, swing your bag onto your shoulder, and turn your back on him.

“Stop.” You do and turn, slowly. “I know I’m an asshole, but I wasn’t implying that, okay?”

Blinking at his response, you step up to his edge of the table. You tilt your head, waiting for him to elaborate but when he doesn’t, a mildly disappointed sigh leaves your lungs.

“If that’s your idea of an apology…” He stares up as you hold him in suspense. “Then I’ll take what I can get.”

The tiny quirk of his lips has you plopping back in your seat, albeit a bit reluctant. As you set your bag back down, he slides the cash back over.

“Well, I’m not taking your money.” You frown.

“Well, at least order something to eat, I don’t mind treating. Unless you have that weird masculine thing where it’s offensive if a girl pays for food.”

A light smile threatens to break out on his face and you think it could be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“Nah, I’m never one to turn down a free meal.”

He finally orders and you try not to watch him eat, finding it endearing the way he rests his fingers holding chopsticks against his cheek while he chews. So you just return to quietly sipping your drink and watching the rain beat down on the pavement, illuminated by the street lamps. Occasionally, bumps rise on your skin like they did earlier when you feel his eyes on you. You just let him stare because it makes you feel warm.

The bowl slides to the middle of the table and Yoongi sits back with a satisfied sigh. You look over and smile, getting ready to tease him about his appetite but then the bell rings and Yoongi’s expression drops completely. He straightens in his seat, pulls the bandanna up over the lower half of his face and a dreadful feeling sinks into your gut when he grabs the chopsticks and holds them with a tight grip, veins popping and knuckles paling. You look over your shoulder, blood stirring with anxiety when you see a few men from the poker game heading straight for your table.

“Get your bag,” Yoongi mutters, shifting so his feet are turned to the side. Swallowing thickly, you bring up your backpack and wrap your arms across it, pressing it into your chest.

“So you decided to catch up to her before us. Well done, my friend,” the man says, clapping Yoongi on the shoulder. A cold front moves in on the tips of your fingers, settles a tundra in your gut and freezes you in your seat when Yoongi doesn’t look at you, just stares at the man above him.

Was this all just a ruse? He was just keeping you here so his friends could come and mug you? You’re not that naive.

Right?

Just when you start to doubt all of your life choices, Yoongi smacks off the man’s hand, leans forward with his eyebrows furrowed at you.

“I’m not with them.” Your heart races as you look between them. For once, you feel backed into a corner.

“Yes, you are, pretty boy. Because if you’re not, then it seems to me that you both plotted to set us up and that means you’re both in trouble.”

“No one plotted anything. I’ve never met him before,” you declare, catching onto their lie, washed over with relief that you haven’t been duped.

“You just underestimated me and that’s not my fault.”

The man looks at you with an ugly lip curl.

“Oh, yes it is. You never should’ve been there in the first place, so hand me and my friends back our money and this all goes away. No one gets hurt.”

Yoongi’s jaw moves like he’s grinding his teeth. “That’s not what I heard,” he mutters.

Your clutch anxiously onto the sides of your backpack, not wanting to know what he means. You slowly reach under your chair to grab onto your duffle, ready to run at a moment’s notice.

The stranger bends down to lean towards you. “Give me the money. Now.”

“Get out of her face, man,” Yoongi spits, standing with a hand on his shoulder to push him back. You stand as well, holding tightly onto both of your bags as you look back at the door, but for all you know, there are more men out there waiting.

You jump when the man attempts to snatch your bag but withdraws with a shout in pain, and you don’t expect to see Yoongi piercing his shoulder with the chopsticks. As your heart and mind race, he yanks the utensils with added red out, keeps them in his fist, and shoves back the two men who crowd him, sending them into the tables behind. Dishes crash and customers leap up in exclamations of surprise, and Yoongi takes the opportunity to push you away and get behind you, hand flattened on your spine to compel you in the direction of the kitchen.

He seizes your duffle bag so you have an easier time moving, and you both ignore the protesting shouts from the chefs and servers as you run through the hot kitchen. As you stumble outside, the rain cascades over you, and your heart stops for a moment when you realize you have no plan to escape. But then he wraps his free hand around your forearm, glancing up as more shouts echo from the restaurant. He pulls down the bandana. His face looks radiant in the blurred street lights.

“This way.”

You both take off down the block, and in the midst of the sprint, Yoongi slides down his hand to instead curl his fingers around your wrist and leads you across the street. It’s not the rain that makes you shiver.

The scent of rain washes over you as your feet hit asphalt, a few honks blasting from cars you dart past. Yoongi puts himself between you and the vehicles that shout profanities at him and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you when he shouts right back and throws up a middle finger. You slide your hand into his palm to give him a good tug so he won’t end up in another squabble with an irate driver and he turns back to you. For some reason you’re smiling and when he looks at you, your heart pounds, but it could easily be mistaken for exertion. But when you spot the crinkle at the corners of his eyes that tells you he’s smiling too and your pulse skips a beat, you know it has nothing to do with running.

You have no idea where he’s taking you. But at this moment, you trust him with your life. It’s a 360, but it’s freeing. And nothing like you’ve ever felt before.

You run until you reach the end of the block where a black Ducati motorcycle is parallel parked in between a stretch of cars and he picks up a matte black helmet from the seat and holds it out to you.

“Here, put this on. Hurry up.” The fiberglass is covered in droplets of rain. It means safety, but from this man who gave it to you? Who keeps confusing you?

A dilemma.

“Why did you come after me?”

“What?” he half-shouts over the loud pattering of downpour. “We don’t have time-”

You step up to stand face-to-face with him and he blinks confusion down at you, mouth open as his chest heaves, panting, orange hair darkened and drenched. You glance down at the chopsticks are still trembling in his hand. Adrenaline. He snaps them in half and throws them into the street where they get carried into the storm drain.

It’s raining, but there’s a fire. You repeat your question, keeping the helmet down at your side so there’s not more than an inch between you. He holds your gaze - doesn’t blink or look away. Darkness surrounds you, but there’s none in his eyes.

“I just did.”

He gives no reason, so neither do you when you bunch the front of his soaked black crew-neck and yank him into you, into a kiss that will be seared into your mind like a core memory. He doesn’t lean into it for a split second, like you caught him off guard, but when he does, grabs the side of your face to take over and opens your mouth with his tongue like he’s always meant to taste you, it’s messy and desperate, teeth clacking and mouths moving uncoordinated. It’s the hungriest you’ve ever been kissed. Drinking in the rain, drinking in each other, the helmet slips from your fingers and you don’t notice for a second until he breaks away from your swollen lips and holds it up to you.

“We gotta go.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, regret taking over. He shakes his head and places the helmet into your hands. You frantically look over your shoulder where a few men are catching up, pointing their fingers and shouting as they spot you.

“Come on,” he urges and you slip on the helmet, facing back to see him swinging his leg over the bike and starting up the engine. He sits with your duffle slung around his neck in front of him, chin on his shoulder as he glances back just as you slide behind him.

“Hold tight.” He barely gives you enough time to circle your arms around his waist before he kicks off the curb. The bike roars to life and he speeds it away from the pavement, taking off down the street and into the night. Full of possibilities. You rest your head between his shoulder blades, unable to see the way his fingers tighten around the handle bars. Staring off to the side, you watch the night go by, road illuminated by street lights filtered through the rain, and your heart hammers at the adventure of it all.

The engine still purrs when it comes to a stop, now far enough away from danger. The rain has reduced to a drizzle and your heartbeat thunders within the fiberglass. You flip up the visor so he can hear you marvel,

“You stabbed him.” For you. He stabbed a man for you. And you think that’s why you kissed him.

“I know.”

“That was fucking metal.” His chuckle travels through his chest, so you can feel it in your own.

“I’m glad you think so.” ******* “So, where you headed?” he asks once he comes to the next stoplight. The smell of salt wafts in the air, tell tale sign of the beach.

“My hotel.” “Do you know the directions? I’m not google maps.”

You laugh against his back and tighten your hold around him. His muscles tense up beneath you. At this point, you think you’d let him take you anywhere, but you’re feeling bad about the kiss.

“You don’t have to take me all the way there. Just drop me off at a bus stop, it’s around here somewhere.”

“Buses don’t run this late.” You know for a fact that they do, but you don’t want to dispute him. Especially if it means you can hold onto him like this for just a little longer. Damn. You hated him just a little bit ago. Crazy how fast things can change in the blink of an eye.

“I’ll take a cab then.”

A rev of the engine fills a pause. “It’s late.”

“What?” He clears his throat, talks over his shoulder.

“I said it’s late. And it’s raining. I’ll just drop you off.” A spread of heat in your chest makes this chilly night a bit bearable.

“I thought you’d be itching to get away from me.”

“Yeah, you’d think,” he mutters, hanging his head, sounding dismayed. Or bitter.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch. Trust me.”

“You just want gas money, huh?” He huffs and tosses his head back, strings of wet hair allowing you a glimpse of his undercut.

“Just give me the damn directions.”

******* All too soon, the venture comes to an end when he pulls into the lot of the beachfront hotel. Quietly, he parks and shuts off the engine and it takes you a second to come down from your rush and realize you’re still holding onto him when there’s no reason to anymore. You snap yourself out of your daze of wishful thinking that this night will never end and remove your arms, immediately missing his warmth and touch. A little too quickly you move off of the seat and he straightens as you stand, removing the helmet and you miss the way he watches you shake out your hair. When you meet his gaze, your heart starts racing again, butterflies multiplying beneath your diaphragm as he stares at you for a moment before glancing down to the helmet you hold out to him. He accepts it with a subtle nod and rests it in his lap while you internally panic, trying to find something not stupid to say so this whole ordeal with him doesn’t end.

“Well, thank you. I half-expected you to ditch me on the side of the road and ride off with my money.”

He leans forward with a soft snort, resting his wrists on the center of the bars, and your heart starts to do gymnastics at the notion that he finds you amusing because it gives you hope that he’s interested enough to not leave yet.

“I’m not that much of an asshole.”

“No, but you’re pretty close.”

“And yet you got on my motorcycle.”

“You told me to trust you and I do.”

“You just said you expected me to ditch you and take your money.”

“Half-expected,” you emphasize. “There’s always room for doubt.”

Just the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile and you don’t want to see it leave.

“Speaking of room, do you have a place to stay?”

“Not around here,” he shakes his head, leaning back to stuff his hands in his jacket pockets. “But I have a friend across town who’ll let me crash, so I should probably get going.”

Tonight, with this man, has been an entire amusement park of emotions. From obscene attraction, to utter loathing, to being enlivened and now to just being plain disappointed. You don’t want to get off this ride just yet.

You squat down and drop your bag to the ground, digging into the front pocket for a pen and notepad. After you find one and rip out a page, you straighten and stride up to the bike without looking at him, writing down the number of your room. You fold it up once you’re done, passing it over, and watch him hesitate before accepting it.

“In case you change your mind,” you say, pointing at the page with your pen as you cap it. “Or if your friend doesn’t want a felon crashing on their couch.”

“And you wouldn’t mind a felon crashing with you?”

“I let a felon fuck me in a goddamn closet. What do you think?”

He holds your stare for a moment before a subtle smile breaks on his otherwise unreadable expression.

“Well, that’s good to know,” he says, shaking his head, and looks at the note for a second longer, then stuffs it in his jacket.

You sense an impending ‘but.’

“But-” You hate being right. “I think I’ll be okay. You should head inside, it’s starting to rain again.”

Not knowing what else to do besides stare at the ground and contemplate if you should write down your number too, you awkwardly hold out your hand, and then upon realizing how weird that is, quickly change your mind and retract it. Embarrassment flooding your cheeks, you reach down to snatch up your bag and turn around. You don’t wave, don’t say anything because what else is there to do? You don’t want to say it was nice to meet him because you’re still trying to figure out if it was, nor do you want to say ‘see you’ because you’re not sure if you ever will after this.

You don’t look back, and as you head towards the main entrance where you can pick up your room key, the sound of the motorcycle revving into gear echoes around you and it’s only when it disappears in the distance do you turn around, wishing you weren’t watching him go. More like you were still on the back.

thanks for reading!! let me know what you think! i love to yap!!

xxx - claret p.s. i wrote the poker scene after watching a ten-minute wiki-how video on how to play texas hold 'em lmao

masterlist

taglist: @rinkud @taegijns @viankiss @polarnightmyg @futuristicenemychaos

@busanbby-jjk @lixies-favorite-cookie

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sturniololoco · 10 months ago

Note

can you do one where justin is in la visiting and all the boys start doing stuff (going out to eat, going shopping, etc) all without her and she starts to feel left out so she isolates herself until chris starts to notice and does something to make her feel better (her and chris are the closest)

Left Out

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo triplets

warnings: crying, angriness, jealousy, fluff, etc.

₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚

SLS’s POV

Today was a big day for my brothers and I: My oldest brother Justin was flying into LA to spend the week with us.

We were in the car, heading to the airport to pick him up.

Nick pulled out the camera and began filming an intro to the blog they were filming while he’s here.

“Are you excited?” Nick asked me, leaning over and holding the camera to show the both of us in selfie position.

“Heck yes!” I said, leaning over and smiling into the lenses with Nick.

“That’s good because we’re almost there!” Matt said as we passed under the green sign that said we were taking the exit to get to the airport.

“Hey guys!” Justin said as he saw us parked in the back of the parking garage.

He gave each of my brothers a hug, smiling into the camera that Nick had rolling.

I sat there excitedly, waiting for my hug from my big brother.

But it didn’t come.

“Sis, you cool with sitting in the back?” Chris asked me as he put the very back seat down before throwing Justin’s bags in the trunk.

“Oh-um yeah.” I said, not seeming like I had much of a choice, I quietly climbed in the back of the car.

I was pretty quiet on the ride home, giving up on trying to but into the conversation.

As we pulled into the driveway, everyone got out, except for me who was waiting for Chris to put the seat down so I could climb out.

But he didn’t.

He walked inside, carrying Justin’s backpack as they walked inside, leaving me in the car.

I tried to tell for him, text him, call him, but I didn’t get any response.

I eventually sighed and spent the next 10 minuets forcing my body through the small opening between the headrests to get into the trunk.

I eventually got and found the emergency exit button in the trunk.

“Mother fucker,” I mumbled under my breath as I rubbed my knee that I banged on the window of the car.

“What happens to you?” Chris laughed as I walked in, an unpleasant look on my face.

I rolled my eyes and mumbled,

“I’m gonna take a shower, I’ll be right back.”

After doing my skincare and hair routine and getting into some cozy pj’s, I walked down stairs,

To be met with an abandoned house.

I looked around, checking my brothers room which we’re completely empty.

After defending the stairs to the garage, I found that my brothers left me here by myself.

I had no notification from them either.

I slouched down on the couch and pulled out my phone, dialing Nick.

He didn’t answer till about 20 minutes later.

“Where the fuck are you?!” I shouted into the phone, letting my anger out.

“okay, chill the fuck out.” He said sarcastically back to me.

I rolled my eyes and responded.

“You just left me here! Where did you go?”

“We took Justin out to dinner and we’re on the way to top golf now.” He said.

At this, I felt my hear shatter.

I quickly hung the phone up, not even responding.

I willed the tears not to come, but they did anyways. They rolled down my face as I though about how they just left me out.

They didn’t even bother telling me! Justin hasn’t even talked to me once.

As the tears kept falling, I feel myself drifting off to sleep.

I feel myself being picked up and carried up the stairs. I open my eyes to see myself pressed against Chris’s chest.

“Shhh, go back to sleep.” He said as he opens my door and walked me to my bed.

As he played me down, he pressed a kiss to my forehead, saying his good nights.

But then it came flooding back to me.

I feel the tears come again as he pulls away. He noticed and kneeled down beside me, brushing some hair out of my face.

“Hey, what’s wrong sweet girl.” He asked, grabbing my hand and looking at me with a sad face.

“Y-You guys just left me here! A-And I was scared when Nick didn’t answer. And Justin doesn’t even wanna see me, he’s only here to see you guys and I-“

I began to rant, letting my feeling pour out. He climbed into bed next to me and pulled me into a hug, saying,

“Shhh, I promise that’s not true. And I’m so sorry we left you bud.” I nodded into his chest, hugging him back tightly.

As I drifted off to sleep again, I hear Chris’s soft words say,

“tomorrow will be a better day. I promise.”

The next morning, I was being lightly shook awake.

I opened my eyes to see Justin’s smiling at me.

“C’mon! We’re gonna go get donuts!” He whispered, signaling that it might be early.

I quickly shot up, smiling before throwing on a hoodie and following him out to the car.

“Hey kid, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. We left you out and I feel really bad.” Justin said as we pulled out of the Duncan drive through.

he grabbed my hand and gave it a little squeeze before looking at me with a sympathetic smile.

I smiled back, but mine was sincere.

I didn’t say anything, all I did was lean into him, resting my head in his shoulder as he held my hand.

“I love ya kiddo.”

Note: kinda short fluffy one. I’ll have some GOOD fics out tomorrow 😏

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq @idkhowtosleep

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koiiiji · 6 months ago

Note

So when you get the chance 👉🏼👈🏼 Olly, vin jin, self loathing/heat mode Daniel’s reactions to a strong fem reader that fights well and is very witty and seems angry a lot. With smut if ur down?? I was thinking of different ways she’d meet the characters like, Vin Jin’s would be at school and the reader is sick of him bullying Duke so she tells him to fight her, Olly’s I feel like would be the reader is in a different crew and he was pissing her off so it escalated to a fight… SL Daniel too? To fight him from another crew? Despite knowing all these men are way too strong for their own good like—

YES VIN DEFINITELY FITS FOR THIS SCENARIO!!

author’s note ; i feel olly too but what’s the point if bro doesn’t feel anything? but let’s imagine that we are fucking magicians and olly was possible to feel ✨little something✨. and sorry, i didn’t include danny, i just can’t imagine him messing with girls, he is baby and total patootie😭🫶🏻

author’s note 2 ; OMG SORRY THAT IT TOOK SO LONG TO RESPONSE

tw ; f!body reader, suggestive, fighting, AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw part w/ olly

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

vin jin

The bell rang, signaling the end of another monotonous school day. The hallways were bustling with students, each minding their own business, except for a few who were engrossed in a particular scene. In the center of the commotion stood Vin Jin, his trademark sunglasses glinting under the fluorescent lights as he cornered Duke. The boy, known for his rap skills, was visibly uncomfortable.

"You call that rap? My grandma could spit better bars," - Vin taunted, his voice full of mockery as he held up a notepad with lyrics for new songs. Duke, trying to muster some courage, opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by a sharp, female voice.

"Leave him alone, Vin."

It wasn’t that you was protector of every weak ones, but seeing and hearing that coward Vin Jin mercilessly attacked Duke, that poor guy, was miserable, to say less. You, and actually everyone who have eyes could say that this pathetic asshole is just trying to establish himself at Duke’s expense. Plus he was loud, he interrupted you from studying, so teaching him little lesson won’t hurt your next lecture preparation, right?

"What the fuck do you want from me, woman?" - Vin turned to face you, a smirk playing on his lips. You stepped closer, eyes locked onto his. "You know, i'm sick of you bullying Duke. If you want to prove how strong you are, why don't you fight someone who can actually fight back?" - a murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd. Vin's smirk widened. "You think you can take me on?" Without waiting for a response, you dropped your backpack to the ground and squared your shoulders. "Let's find out."

Vin chuckled, rolling his shoulders. "I don't fight girls, sweetheart. But I'll play along." He extended his fist towards you, feigning nonchalance. "Rule number one, usually, guys start with a pun-"

Before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed his fist, twisting it with precision and force. In one swift motion, you yanked him forward, using his momentum against him. The moment before his body met the floor, you wrapped your legs around his neck, and completing the grip, slammed his head harder into the floor. With agility and strength, you rolled, twisting his arm, pinning him to the floor. Before he could react, you wrapped your thighs around his neck harder, locking him in a tight scissor hold.

Vin struggled, trying to break free, but you tightened your grip, the muscles in your legs flexing as you held him down. His face was inches from your crotch, his breath coming in short and hot gasps.

"Rule number two, fuck your 'guys usually start' " - you taunted, tightening your hold slightly. Vin gritted his teeth, his face flushed with both effort and embarrassment. "Get off of me!" He puffed with an anger.

You leaned in closer smirking, lowering your voice and whispering in playful manere. "Not until you promise to leave Duke alone."

Vin's eyes narrowed, pride didn't allow him to give up so easily, but the same pride reminded him that some girl threw him to the floor, twisted him in front of the whole class, and even dared to set her own conditions. For Vin, this was a real blow to his enormously inflated ego.

"Fine, fine... I promise. Now get off of me, bitch" - all flushed he hissed into your thighs. You released him, rolling away and standing up. When you was about to leave the class you turned to Duke - "you heard him, he won't touch you anymore."

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

That evening, the school was empty, the silence almost eerie. You were alone in the gym, practicing your moves, when the door creaked open. You turned to see Vin leaning against the doorframe, his sunglasses gone, revealing his intense gaze.

"Couldn't stay away, huh?" you teased, not missing a beat. Vin walked towards you, his expression serious. "I intend on gaining revenge on you"

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms, studying him. "Listen, I was just protecting that guy. I said then, I will say now - if you want to prove how strong you are, find an opponent to match you, and to establish yourself at the expense of the weak… well, this is not just stupid, but disgusting." You sighed, turning away from Vin and intending to leave the ring. "Besides, you already lost to me, did you really enjoyed being caught by a girl that much?” You smiled to yourself.

A strong grip grabbed your elbow, sharply and roughly yanking you back, turning you towards your interlocutor. Vin stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "Now, I want to see just how strong you really are." The air between you crackled with tension. You took a step back, but he followed, closing the distance.

Who does this bastard think he is? Fueled by adrenaline and anger, you delivered a series of sharp blows to his chest with your foot, each one eliciting a grunt from Vin. Your final strike aimed directly at his crotch, but he was quicker than you anticipated. With a swift, powerful motion, he countered with a direct blow to your side, sending you sprawling.

Ignoring the pain, you jumped to your feet, determination blazing in your eyes. You darted behind him, your hands finding purchase on his powerful shoulders. Deftly dodging his grasp, you swung both legs over his neck, crossing them at the back of his head. Your body twisted gracefully, almost cradling his face between your thighs.

You hadn't expected Vin to be so resilient. Despite your hold, he remained on his feet, his strength undeniable. He gripped your waist with surprising force, his defiance infuriating.

Such impudence even took your breath away. With both hands raised, you brought your elbows down hard on his head, striking repeatedly. Each blow was meant to weaken his resolve, but Vin's endurance was formidable. With a swift, desperate maneuver, he spun 90 degrees, knocking both of you to the ground. The impact jarred you, the air rushing from your lungs as your back hit the floor. Vin, though still trapped between your thighs, managed to clasp his hands around your neck, his grip firm but not cruel.

"Give up," he croaked, his voice strained yet determined.

You met his gaze with fiery defiance and squished his neck harder with your thighs. "Only after you, overgrown gremlin," you hissed furiously. Without taking your angry glances off each other, none of you intended to let go first.

When suddenly the Vin's grip weakened.

Before you could react, he pulled you into a kiss, his lips crashing against yours with a fierce urgency. The unexpected intensity of the kiss caught you off guard, but you responded with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair. The kiss deepened, filled with a passion neither of you had expected.

And yet, not wanting to lose, you took advantage of the moment, and moving your legs to his sides and pretending to hug his shoulders, you rolled both of you, so that you were now sitting on top.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, eyes locked in a silent understanding. "Looks like the fight is over," - you whispered, your voice a mix of challenge and desire.

Vin smirked, his hands slipping to your waist. "No, it's just beginning."

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

olly wang

Olly had a reputation for getting under people’s skin. As the head of his gang, he knew how to push buttons and provoke reactions. Today was no different.

His laughter echoes down the narrow alleyway as he approaches, his eyes glaming with mischief. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Not happy to see me?" he taunts, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You clench your fists, your gaze unwavering. "You never know when to shut up, do you, Olly?" His grinning widens. "That's what makes this fun."

Without another word, you lunge at him, your movements fluid and precise. Olly is ready, deflecting your initial strikes with practiced ease. Your fight is a dance of aggression and skill, each move calculated, each strike intended to maim.

He dodges your right hook, countering with a jab to your ribs. You grunt but don’t back down, spinning on your heel to deliver a devastating roundhouse kick. Your massive heel connects with his jaw, sending him staggering. Sometimes there were advantages to coming to the showdown after the club. Without giving him time to come to his senses, you grab him by the dreadlocks, pulling his head down and delivering a knee strike right in the face. Without wasting a second, immediately going behind his back and stretching the wire, throwing it over Olly’s neck, starting to choke him.

He struggles, his vision blurring as he claws at the wire. With a roar of desperation, he slams you into the nearest wall, knocking the breath out of you and forcing you to release your grip. He throws you to the ground, your body hitting a nearby car with a sickening thud. Gasping for air, you lie on the ground, struggling to regain your breath. Olly approaches, his steps deliberate, his eyes dark with intent. He looms over you, ready to deliver the final blow. Just as he raises his fist, you grab a piece of reinforcement from the ground, swinging it with all your might.

The metal connects with Olly's head, and his world explodes into stars. He staggers, his vision swimming, but manages to stay on his feet, adrenaline pushing him forward. He shakes his head, trying to clear his vision as you charge at him again.

Your fight continues, more brutal and desperate than before. You move with the precision and power of a trained fighter, your strikes hard and relentless. Olly is no slouch either, his movements fluid as he counters your attacks. You circle each other, exchanging blows, neither willing to back down.

“What’s the matter, Olly? Can’t handle a woman who fights back?” - you taunt, your breath coming in quick bursts as you pause for a moment.

Olly wipes a trickle of blood from his lip, his eyes gleaming with a mix of pain and admiration. “You’re good, I’ll give you that. But I’m not done yet.”

You clash again, the sound of your struggle echoing through the deserted street. But as the fight wears on, something changes. The anger and aggression begin to morph into something else. The adrenaline coursing through your veins, the intensity of your movements - it all seems to ignite a different kind of fire.

You swing at Olly, but he catches your wrist, pulling you close. Your faces are inches apart, both of you breathing hard. The electricity between you is palpable.

“Is this what you wanted?” Olly murmurs, his voice low and rough.

Your eyes flicker with surprise. Without warning, Olly closes the distance, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss. You hesitate for a split second before responding, your hands tangling in his hair as you kiss him back with equal fervor. The fight forgotten, you are consumed by a different kind of battle, one driven by lust and need.

Olly’s hands roam over your body, feeling the strength and heat beneath your clothes. He pushes you against the wall, your kisses growing more urgent. You moan softly, your nails digging into his shoulders as you pull him closer.

“Olly,” - you breathe, breaking the kiss to look into his eyes. “This doesn’t change anything between our gangs.”

“Maybe not,” - he replies, his voice thick with desire. “But right now, it’s just you and me.”

You make quick work of your clothes, the urgency of your need overriding any thoughts of rivalry or conflict. Olly’s hands explore every inch of your body, memorizing the feel of your skin, the way you respond to his touch. You are equally aggressive, your touch leaving marks on his back as you guide him to where you want him.

When Olly finally enters you, it is with a growl of satisfaction. You gasp, your legs wrapping around his waist as he thrusts into you with a powerful, steady rhythm. Your movements are frantic, driven by the intensity of your emotions and the thrill of your unexpected connection.

“Fuck, (y/n),” - Olly groans, his lips brushing against your ear. You respond with a deep moan, your hips meeting his thrusts. The pleasure builds rapidly, the tension between you reaching a fever pitch. When- Before he can react, a distant voice cuts through the haze.

“Boss! Boss!” The urgency in the voice pulls him out of the moment. Olly’s subordinate is shaking him urgently, and suddenly he realized that he have slipped into a daze. The alleyway is as it had been, but you’re gone.

“Boss, are you alright?” The subordinate asks, concern etched on his face.

Olly groans, rubbing the spot on his head where you had struck him. The reality of your fight comes rushing back, the smutty fantasy dissipating like smoke. He pushes himself up to his feet, scanning the alley for any sign of you, but you are nowhere to be found.

"I'm fine," he mutters, though he feels anything but. The encounter has left him rattled, not just physically but mentally. He had underestimated you, and the intensity of your fight - and whatever had transpired in his dazed mind - lingers in the air.

As he walks away, he can't shake the feeling that this is far from over. Your rivalry has reached a new level, and he is determined to face whatever comes next. But for now, he needs to regroup and recover, his mind haunted by the dream that had felt all too real.

#[ ~ koi.talks🗣]#webtoon lookism #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism #lookism x reader #vin jin #vin jin x reader #lookism vin jin #vin j #olly wang #olly wang x reader #olly wang lookism #van ochun

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yelenasdiary · 1 year ago

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Once Upon A Dream

Pairing: Military! Yelena Belova x Fem! Nurse! Reader

Summary: Yelena surprises you and shared daughter with a vacation to remember!

Warnings: Teeny Tiny Angst, Fluff, Mentions of scars, Brief Mention of PTSD | 2.3K

Translations: милый (darling), Detka (baby),

AC: I think this little AU deserves a happy fic, so enjoy! Also friendly reminder, this is the only variant of Yelena that I can see having a child, if this isn’t your vibe, don’t read xx.

"Where are we going?" you turned to your wife who grabbed the last suitcase from the trunk of the Uber's car. "You'll find out tonight" Yelena replied with a cheeky smirk on her lips, with a shack of your head at her you grabbed your suitcase with your free hand, Natalia holding your other before the three of you walked into the airport. Natalia now a 5-year-old was most excited to be going on her first plane ride rather than finding out what her Mama had planned for the family of three.

Yelena did everything in her power to keep the surprise from slipping, she checked in the three of you while you sat near the terminal with Natalia. "Mommy when do we get on the plane?" she asked, holding her stuffed Maleficent as a dragon plushie. "You'll have to ask mama peanut, when she gets back" you replied. The little girl with blonde hair and big green eyes threw herself on the seat beside you and huffed making you raise a brow slightly at her little outburst.

"Everything is all set" Yelena smiled as she sat down beside you, keeping the plane tickets out of view. "Mama, can we get on the plane now?" Natalia asked looking over you to Yelena, "Shortly милый, come here, I have a secret to tell you" Your wife gestured for the little girl to walk over to her with her index finger. Natalia loved secrets, mainly because she loved the tickle feeling she got whenever somebody whispered into her ear. You watched as your daughter's face lit up rather quickly with whatever your wife just whispered to her, she jumped up and down trying to keep herself from squealing which only made your mind run through ideas of what Yelena could possibly have planned.

The flight was 5.5 hours long, Natalia was asleep with her head resting against your forearm as she slept peacefully between you and Yelena. "She's not going to sleep tonight" you whispered to your wife.

"I've already got that part covered; don't you worry about a single thing" Yelena winked before her eyes returned to the book in her hand. By now you were just desperate to know what Yelena was up too, she just returned from a 10-month deployment a week ago and ever since coming home she had been very secretive.

It wasn't until the three of you were in the backseat of another Uber that Yelena finally told you what was happening. With a slightly tired little girl sitting in between you both, Yelena reached into her backpack and pulled out three horned headbands.

"So, this is where I can't keep the secret anymore" Yelena looked at you, handing you a headbang with a soft smile, "We're spending a week at Disneyland!" she added. Natalia put on her maleficent themed headband and looked up at you with the biggest smile, "Mama said Maleficent will be there!!!" she boosted. You couldn't help but smile before reaching over Natalia and kissing Yelena deeply, "surprise detka" she smiled against your lips.

Yelena knew how much you've wanted to experience Disneyland with the three of you but the dream had become such a long distant thought over the past few years that you almost forgot all about it. "Thank you" you replied before kissing her again. Yelena had planned everything to perfection, not a single thing was left unthought of. Your little family would be staying in a 2-bedroom suite at Disney's Grand Californian Hotel & Spa and Yelena wasn't lying when she said she had Natalia getting some more sleep covered.

Once at the hotel, you helped Natalia get into her Moana themed pjs before Yelena reminded her that she needs to get a goodnights sleep before she goes on a magical adventure tomorrow. Of course, only after a bedtime story was the little girl who was almost too much of a spitting image of her mother asleep snuggled into her plushie.

"Honey" you spoke softly has you unpacked the toiletries and placed them on the bathroom countertop. Yelena came up behind you, instantly wrapping her arms around your waist, "yes my love?" She smiled before placing a kiss on your cheek. It was already getting late, soon to be 10pm and you had no idea what Yelena had planned for tomorrow. You turned in her arms, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck with a bottle of cream in one hand.

"How long have you had this planned?" You asked with a soft smile.

"Months, I had Nat help me book stuff while I was away. If you think the surprises stop here, you're wrong" she replied before kissing your lips softly, "Kate is going to fly out here in 2 days and watch Natalia so we can have some time alone" she added. You and Yelena haven't had a decent chance to have some one on one time for a long time, between her deployments, having Natalia & your own deployment, finding time for each other was almost near impossible but you both made do with what you had.

"You really are full of surprises" your smile grew, "could you please?" You asked, bringing the cream in your hand to Yelena's view. She nodded, "go lay down detka, I'll be there in a moment, just going to brush my teeth" she replied before kissing you deeply once more. This new part of your nightly routine was never your favorite but somehow, Yelena was able to make you forget why she was rubbing cream into the scars on your back. Maybe it was the way she kissed every single one of them before she worked her hands softly and tenderly over them with cream while she told you jokes that she found hilarious.

Or maybe it was how tightly she held you close to her afterwards, whispering sweet nothings as you fell into a slumber in her protective and loving arms. Either way, she made the process easier.

——

Natalia was up bright and early at 6am with pure excitement for the day ahead. She slipped out of bed and was quick to her Maleficent horned headband before running into your shaded room with your wife and jumping on the two of you.

"Mommy wake up!!" She shook you awake before Yelena wrapped her arms around her making her squeal as her mother covered her little face with kisses. "Mama!!! That tickles!!" Your daughter giggled in the arms of your wife while your eyes adjusted to being awake.

You smiled softly as you watched your wife hop off the bed with your daughter still in her arms, flying her around the room. "Faster Mama!!!" Natalia giggled, her arms spread wide as if she was an airplane. It always amazed you just how much energy Yelena had so early in the morning while it was a bit of a struggle for you to wake up without a warm mug of coffee or tea depending on the weather.

"Bug do you want a bath this morning or a shower? You didn't haven't one last night" you asked your daughter as Yelena placed her back on her feet and you sat up in bed.

"Shower! I'm a big girl now!" She replied with confidence.

"I'll help her, you get some coffee into you. We have breakfast reservations at 8" Yelena said as she wandered over to her suitcase. "Can I wear my horns today mama?" Natalia asked as she jumped back up onto the large bed and instantly cuddled you. "I've got the perfect outfit for you sweetheart!" Yelena replied as she turned around with a child sized Maleficent costume in hand, "what do you think?" she asked with a smile.

Natalia's eyes widened at the costume before she nodded her head ecstatically. Thanks to Kate, Maleficent was your daughter's favorite Disney character, she loved how Maleficent was able to transform into a dragon, it blew her mind when Kate had Maleficent: Mistress of all evil playing in the background once while babysitting Natalia.

Breakfast was a whole new experience for your little one, Yelena booking a table for 3 at Disney Princess Breakfast Adventure, giving Natalia a breakfast experience that she'll never forget. Entering the restaurant, you were greeted by 2 different princesses and of course, Natalia's eyes lit up when she saw one of them was Aurora.

She let go of your hand and ran up to the woman in the pink dress, you couldn't help yourself but capture the moment on your phone while your daughter played her role as maleficent and made jokes about putting a spell on the princess. Your eyes looked over to your wife who was watching the event unfold in front of her, a soft smile on her lips and a loving look in her eyes made you realise this trip was something Yelena needed for herself as well. A whole different environment, surrounded by excitement, love and other families to help her forget the events she had experienced recently.

The rest of the day was spent at Disneyland, Yelena taking Natalia on multiple rides over and over again, shopping of course, stopping every few steps to meet the next famous character walking around the theme park. Everything was so exciting for Natalia, her smile glued to her face the entire day, as for you, you had to capture so many moments on your phone's camera causing a growing excitement to make a scrapbook when you returned home.

"Can we go again mama?! Pleaseeee?" Natalia begged to go another round on the Dumbo the Flying Elephant ride.

"We can't detka, we have to get to the Halloween party for your big surprise remember?" Yelena replied with her hand reaching out for your daughter to cling onto. Natalia ran to her mother's side without a second thought, the three of you began to walk towards the Halloween party. The area was surrounded by other Disneyland goers as they all crowed some of the characters standing out the front while others took pictures and videos with them.

"I can't see mama!" Natalia looked up at Yelena. Natalia was a little shorter than most children her age, but it never usually bothered her until it came to doing things that required her height to be taller. You watched as your wife picked up your daughter and placed her on her shoulders, another moment for you to capture on your phone.

"Mommy! Mama!! Look!!!" Your daughter pointed with excitement as a woman dressed as Maleficent came out of the building, Natalia's face lit up instantly as she watched the fairy make her presence known.

"Well, Well" the character spoke, their eyes looking around at the crowd of families and couples. "I don't like children but –" the fairy pointed to your daughter, "you, come here" she added. If Natalia had moved any faster your wife would've dropped her, she placed her on her feet before apologizing to those around her when Natalia pushed her way through to the character that she was dressed as.

"Hi Maleficent!" Your daughter spoke with high confidence, a wide smile and a little sparkle in her eyes. The woman played the character all too well and Natalia loved every single moment. "Don't you look terribly evil today" Maleficent spoke followed by her famous chuckle, "and what evil things have you done today child?" she asked.

"I made my mama go on lots of rides!" Natalia boosted making both you and your wife chuckle.

"Where is your Mama?" Maleficent asked as she looked up at the crowd, "are you mama?" she pointed at Yelena when she saw you both laughing. Yelena nodded, "and that's my mommy!" Natalia added.

"Well you better come forward, move out of the way people" Maleficent replied as she gestured for you and Yelena to take a few steps forward to get the best quality photos of the moment.

"Now, maybe you can help me child" the fairy turned to your daughter one more, "have you seen young Aurora around by chance?" she asked. Natalia nodded, "she was at the restaurant I had breakfast at!"

"Did you cast a spell on her for me?" Maleficent's question followed.

"Yes! I put a sleeping spell on her!" Your daughter replied, even though she didn't think of such a thing, she was soaking up the moment she was sharing with her favorite villain. "Well done child, keep being evil and have a happy Halloween" Maleficent did her evil laugh once more before posing with Natalia.

----

After dinner at one of Disney's restaurants, the three of you stuck around for a fireworks show at 7pm. You could tell that Natalia would sleep like a log tonight, she was already so tired as you carried her to the viewing spot, Yelena's hands full of the bags of shopping she'd taken you and Natalia to before dinner. All throughout dinner your daughter couldn't stop talking about her meet and greet with Maleficent and you could tell by the look on Yelena's face that she was proud of herself for making sure this little vacation happened.

As the fireworks began, Yelena wandered over to a nearby bench and sat down with her eyes glued to the ground. You knew the display was triggering her PTSD but before you could do anything, Natalia asked for you to put her down. You watched as she walked over to Yelena, "it's okay mama, I'll keep you safe" You heard her little innocent voice over the fireworks as she wrapped her tiny arms around your wife. Your eyes teared up, Natalia had no idea why her mother disliked fireworks so much, but she knew they scared her and she did exactly what you and Yelena did whenever there was a thunderstorm, be there for her.

You wandered over to your girls and sat down beside Yelena, placing your head on her shoulder. The three of you watched the firework display, on of Yelena's hands rested on your knee while her other was wrapped around Natalia in a tight hug. "I love you mama" Natalia whispered once the fireworks were over, placing a kiss on her cheek.

#fanfiction #yelena belova #marvel #yelena belova x reader #military! yelena #black widow #hawkeye

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elliesgoodgirl · 1 year ago

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Tying you to me

(Ellie Williams/Reader)

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——————————————————————————

On a cold November morning you wake up tired and shivering, but the most enticing sight draws you back into bed ; your girlfriend soundly asleep.

Grateful to spend a few moments hidden away from the rest of the world with each other, you and Ellie bask in each others presence.

(I would lay down my life for this woman and she doesn’t get enough soft things written for her)

——————————————————————————

The room was gray, early morning light just barely peeking through the curtains covering the frosted windows. You looked around, taking in the lowly lit room of your girlfriend.

The pile of dirty clothes shoved in the corner, the worn leather couch that seemed to have both of your body imprints perfectly worn into it. Countless posters sloppily hung on the walls, of bands and movies you’d never even seen or heard of, but Ellie swears they’re good. How she could even possibly know is beyond your comprehension.

It’s surprising you’re up this early, several hours before the town of Jackson would even be waking up. After a grueling patrol shift such as your last, it was typical for you to sleep into the late hours of the day. A chill shot through your body, goosebumps pebbling on the exposed skin of your legs.

Your sleep shorts riding up every so slightly, exposing the scars and bruises that had formed over the past few years from many patrol shifts.

A few beams of light come in from above the bed, catching your attention away from the small details of the garage turned apartment. Shining directly onto the face of Ellie, who slept peacefully next to you. One arm outstretched ever so slightly, reaching towards where your upper half one laid down. You could just barely see the ink lines of her tattoo licking up her forearm.

Her eyes closed, eyelashes resting peacefully on her freckled cheeks. Brows furrowed, mouth slightly agape. You could see a small patch of drool on her pillow, usually a sign that she was in deep slumber. The sunbeam catching in her auburn hair, highlighting the many shades of red and brown.

She had fallen asleep with her hair tied half up, normally you scolded her for it as it wasn’t good for her hair, but now you found it endearing. Clearly too exhausted from patrol to change, she slept in nothing but her boxers and the T-shirt from the day prior. A small laugh escapes your mouth as you continue to admire her.

She really was something. All freckles and blushed cheeks. You reach down to brush a strand of hair that was tickling its way into her mouth out of the way, exposing the scar that cut through her eyebrow. You let your hand linger for a moment, knuckles resting against her warm cheek. Ellie gives a content sigh. With how calm she looks now, you’d never be able to guess that she spent half the night kicking you in the side and taking all the blankets.

Another blast of cold air sends a shiver through you. You tear your eyes away from Ellie in an attempt to find where the breeze is coming from. The window near the door catches your eye as the curtains attached blow in the wind.

As carefully as you can, you get up from the bed, not wanting to wake Ellie up. The floor is cold on your bare feet as you tiptoe your way over, being careful to not trip over your backpacks and shoes that are lazily strewn across the room

Finally, you make it to the window and are able to shut it, quietly of course. You breathe a sigh of relief as you feel the draft cut off. The creak of the bed catches your attention,

“Why’d you shut the window?” Ellie’s tired voice interrupts the silence. It’s raspy, coated in sleep.

You turn, greeted to the sight of Ellie sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It was evident that she had been sleeping on the same side for a while, her short hair sticking up wildly while the opposite sat semi neatly. Her lips turned slightly downward in a pout.

“I was cold.. it woke me up” you shrug slightly, running your hands over your arms.

Ellie chuckles slightly, green eyes meeting yours.

“Well then come back to bed, I’ll keep you warm” she smiles, laying back down and opening her arms up for you.

“Oh my hero!” You smile back at her, almost skipping back towards her bed.

You lay down, resting comfortably pressed into Ellie’s chest, her arms wrapped around you. She presses a kiss to your forehead as you settle in.

“Sleep good?” She asks while smoothing your hair away from your face. You shrug,

“It was a typical post patrol sleep, feel like I could use at least ten more hours”

Ellie snorts, “man do I feel that one”

“You looked pretty comfy though”, you say as you lightly trace the lines of her tattooed forearm that’s wrapped around you.

“Oh I was, before I was abandoned in my own bed!”, she’s easily the most dramatic girl you’ve ever met.

“-Even saw the drool you left on your pillow”

You hear Ellie scoff, loudly.

“I do not drool!” She throws her arms up defensively.

“Yes you do!”

“No I don’t!”

You both know you’re right, Ellie is just stubborn and thinks it’s funny to rile you up about the little things.

“For your information, I sleep like an angel”

Ellie can’t keep a straight face as she says this, she knows it a blatant lie. She giggles slightly, awaiting your response.

You can only roll your eyes. She does not sleep like an angel. She sleeps like a tornado with legs and makes you impossibly hot at night. But you’d have it no other way.

The way she mumbles in her sleep, never being able to decipher the nonsense that tumbles out her lips. The way she pulls you closer, even when in deep sleep. She was comfort in its truest form.

You look at her briefly, not having a response for her. Her features become more clear as the rising sun pushes its way past the window above the bed. She searches your face, clearly taking in your features.

“What’s on your mind?” You wonder out loud.

Ellie gives you a crooked smile as one of her hands finds your face. She gently brushes her fingers across your cheek, trailing over a healing cut from a previous patrol shift.

“Nothing..” she mumbles, eyes flicking down to your lips briefly.

“Tell me!” You lean back a little, putting some distance between the two of you.

“Really it’s nothing!”

“Ellie!!”

“….can’t we just go back to bed?”

She dodges the question, a slight blush creeping its way onto her cheeks and ears. You give her an annoyed look.

“Alright alright..” she starts, giving a sigh,

“I was just thinking about…” she trails off again, eyes looking back at your lips.

She purses hers together for a moment, the scar on her lip being highlighted as she does so. She’s thinking about something again, you can see the gears in her head turning.

“Fine, fine, don’t tell m-“

Ellie cuts you off. Pressing her lips to yours. It’s by no means the first time she’s kissed you, but it’s sweet. Tender and loving, like a first kiss between children. Her lips are chapped and slightly salty. Most likely from sweating during the night. And despite both of those things, you sigh into her. Your fingers find her nape and play with the slightly tangled pieces of hair that lay there.

Ellie helps you shift so you’re straddling on top of her as the kiss deepens. Both of you rocking in unison. Your hands committing each others bodies to memory. Ellie’s hands finds your hips and she squeezes. Eventually while moving away from her to get some air, your hands find her face.

You trace over the freckles on her face as you memorize her features for the millionth time. You play with her bottom lip for a moment before you speak.

“I guess we can go back to bed now”, a smile crosses your lips. Ellie returns the smile.

“I’d like that a lot”

She helps you lay back down, your head resting on top of her chest and her strong arms wrapped around you. You both lie there for a moment, Ellie using one of her hands to play with your hair and you rubbing small circles on her stomach with your thumb.

The sun fully rises on you two as you both drift back asleep, ready to not wake until late in the afternoon, and the town of Jackson is lively with the hustle and bustle of its residents.

#ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #joel and ellie #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tlou part 2 #tlou x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #ellie williams smut

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hrtz4alex2211 · 8 months ago

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One rule

pairing: sub!nate x sls!reader

summary 1: you and your triplet older brothers (nick matt and chris) have always been close, they have always respected your wishes and let you do what you want as you were an adult now. but they had one rule. dont. fuck. their. best. friend. but rules were never ment to be followed…

summary 2: it was finally your birthday, the day you have been wating for, your finally 21!! your older siblings throw a party for you constantly reminding you of their one rule. dont have sex with their best friend, nathan doe.

A/N: this is my first fan fic ever so if it suck im sorry.😭 and sorry for the 2 summarys i couldnt chose one bc they both are good😭 this will be 2-3 parts depending on the ending looks like for this fic

warnings: SMUTTTT, cursing, getting caught, crying, physical fighting, panic attack, mentions of alcohol, and probably more

"Y/N HURRY UP!" you hear your eldest brother nick call up to you as you finish up your no make up make up look. "IM COMING JEEZ NICK BEING A GIRL IS HARD Y'KNOW!" you scoff as you say that, putting your shoes on running down stairs where your 3 brothers wait looking at their phones.

"ahem im here lets gooooo" you cough out as they all look up at you and start walking "took you long enough.." chris mumbles earning a smack on the arm from you.

about twenty minutes later you arrive at the airport to pick up 2 of your best friends, madi and nate. you've had the biggest crush on nate since as long as you can remember but you have never told anyone but madi. when you finally see the two emerge from the crowds at the airport you run up to them.

"MADI! NATE! AHHHH!!!" you scream as you wrap your arms around both their necks for about 30 seconds before you pull back and look both of them in the eye

"well hello to you too then" nate laughs "hi Y/n/n!!! its been so long" madi says picking up the bag she dropped from seeing you and loading it into the back of the mini van. nate does the same stacking his bag on top of madi's and putting his backpack on top.

you all start to pile into the mini van after small talk but slowly realizing there wont be enough room for the four of you to fit in the back. "shit where am i gonna sit?" you say looking at matt who is sitting in the front seat waiting as everyone buckles up but you. he shrugs when you hear nate say "sit on my lap itll be fine." you look up at him with an eye brow cocked up.

"no ill be to heavy. ill sit on the floor its fine!" you say starting to crawl into the vans floor "no y/n thats dangerous. just sit on my lap ill live you weigh practically nothing!" nate says as you roll your eyes and finally agree to this decision, as you close the door. you wiggle around on nates lap to make yourself comfortable. you hear him grunt as you finally find a comfortable position and lean back in his chest.

"whats wrong, am i too heavy?" you ask looking back at nate. "no your fine just getting myself comfortable too!" he says smiling his warm smile at you as matt hits a speed bump making nate grunt again but this time you ignore it leaning back on nate's chest and slowly falling asleep to the sound of small chatter floating around the car.

when you wake up you find a sleeping madi and you in new clothes with no make up. madi must have changed you and taken off your make up after you fell asleep in the car. you get up and go downstairs checking the time on your phone 11:37 PM you read as you groaned rubbing your eyes as you make your way to the kitchen already seeing a light on. you walk into the kitchen to find a snacking nate at the island, you giggle as you walk over to your fridge and grab a small yogurt cup.

"hello sleepy head" nate says looking at you through his lashes as he takes a bite from the cereal bowl in-front of him. you walk over and sit next time him setting your yogurt and spoon down as you look into his eyes "hello pretty boy" you whisper, a smirk threatening to spread across your face as you see his eyes widen from the nickname he hasn't heard you use in months.

"ive missed you y/n.." he says as he looks at your lips then back to your eyes, you doing the same. "ive missed you too nate" you smile at him and you jsyt stare into each others eye before the buzz of your phone breaks the trance. its nick. you groan opening the message.

from : nicky pooh 11:41 why are you up i see the kitchen like on

you laugh as you type a response

to : nicky pooh 11:41 i got hungry, snacking with nate. sorry to wake you we'll be in bed soon promise

from: nicky pooh 11:42 fine, make it quick im tired and that light is bright shining through my door. love u 🫶🏼

to : nicky pooh 11:43 lol sucks to have a broken door dont it, love u to🫶🏼

"sorry about that." you chuckle putting the phone down and looking back at nate who looks like his eyes never left your face. you turn to open ur yogurt are you are actually hungry, making nate do the same to finish off his cereal as you devour the yogurt in 6 big spoon fulls. you both get up at the same time him making his way to the sink and you to the trash, he puts his bowl and spoon in the sink as you throw away the yogurt container and walk over the nate leaning on the sink.

you lean really close to nate looking up at him slightly as you place your spoon in the sink. your stomach slightly grinding against his crotch making him groan. you lightly gasp as you feel his growing hard-on press into your stomach. you back up taking nates hand and dragging him to the guest room where he will be staying making sure to close and lock the door as you walk over to the boy pushing him down on the bed as you climb onto him so your straddling him

"fuck y/n what a-are you d-doing?" he asks worried about nick matt and chris. you can see it in his face thats what hes scared about. "im doing what you clearly want." you say palming his growing erection getting a loud whimper from nate. you push a hand over his mouth. "shhhh we dont want my brothers or madi to hear do we now?" you say earning a frantic head shake from nate as you begin to fiddle with the waist band of his pajamas pants soon after pulling them down as he starts to take your top of leaving you in your bra before you hear a small knock at the door startiling you both as you quickly pull your top back on and him pulling up his pants as you both stand up.

"yo nate!" chris says before he jiggles the locked handle. "whys the door locked? bro let me in!" chris says jiggling the door more as you run and hide behind the desk thats set up in the corner of the room.

"sorry forgot to unlock it after i got changed earlier, whats up?" nate says before looking over at you quickly and back to chris. "me and matt are going on a late night drive you coming? im asking y/n and madi after you." chris says, nate eyes widen. "s-sure uh i can ask the girls if you want to head downstairs, i need to piss anyway." nate says looking over at you again for a second then looking back at your brother

"alrights sounds cool, see you downstairs soon?" chris says walking away and pointing at nate "you got it!" nate says as he slightly closes the door and looks at you. "you down to go for a drive?"nate says pointing at the door "fuck yea i am!" you say standing up running to your room slowly opening the door to see a dead asleep madi "i guess madis not coming!" you say pulling on a hoodie and changing your shorts into long pajama pants.

"fine by me" nate responds walking out the room and down the steps as you follow close behind. after you guys drove around for awhile you went back home and all parted ways to you room. seeing as you had to get stuff ready for tomorrow, your big birthday party!

a/n reallllyyyyy long first chapter so sorry but next will be shorter ish and better i promise! i was also crying at myself while writing this it was so bad so hope you enjoyed😭😭

tags: @k4tixzz @hysteria-things @lovingmattysposts

#sub!nate #sls!reader #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo sister

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stuffandsundry · 1 year ago

Text

Transformers Skyfire/Jetfire Crochet Pattern

Made it up this week! I am not an experienced pattern maker, but i still think he turned out pretty well! I wouldn't rec this for a first project, but if you've done some crochet before then help yourself.

What You'll Need

Red Yarn

White Yarn

Blue Yarn

Grey Yarn

(Optional) 2 Sizes Crochet Hooks - I used 3.0mm and 2.5mm, but if you only have 1, I rec 3.0mm

Tapestry needle

Terms

CH-chain stitch

SL-slip stitch

MC-magic circle

SC-single crochet

INC-do two single crochet in one stitch

DEC-do one single crochet over two stitches

Okay, now heres the pattern itself:

Body

WHITE yarn

MC 6

INC 6

SC 12

(SC, INC) X 6

SC 18

(INC, SC 7, INC) X 2

(INC, SC 10) X 2

SC 24

SC 22, DEC

DEC 2, SC 7, DEC 3, SC 7

(DEC, SC 6) X 2

DEC til closed, hide tail

Backpack

RED yarn

CH 7

Turn and SC 5, INC (3 in one stitch), SC 6

SC 14

Swap WHITE yarn

SC 14

Swap RED yarn

SC 14

DEC til closed, leave tail

That Thing On Top Of The Backpack

BLUE yarn, and, if you have it, the smaller crochet hook

CH 5

Turn, SC 4

Swap WHITE yarn

SC 4, SL 1, turn

Tie off, leave tail

For the winglets: SL 4 and sew on

At this point, I recommend sewing the 2 main backpack parts together using the tail. The blue window should be just the row underneath the white stripe on the backpack

Wings (x2)

WHITE yarn

MC 5

INC, SC 4

INC, SC 5

INC, SC 6

INC, SC 7

INC, SC 8, leaving tail

Detailing on wings: CH 18-20, however long you need to cover the shorter edge of the wings. Sew together, hide tail.

The wings should sit in the crevice between the body of the plushie and the backpack. You can go ahead and sew them together at this part. I recommend sewing one side of the circle at the base of a wing to the backpack first, repeat with the other. Then, you can sew the other side of the circle onto the body. For additional security, you can also use the tail of the red backpack to secure it better to the shuttle body. We're almost done!

Thrusters (x2)

GREY yarn, smaller crochet hook

MC 6

SC 6, leave tail

Sew onto back of shuttle

Cockpit window

BLUE yarn

MC 5 (do not complete the circle)

Sew onto nose of shuttle

And that's all! thanks for staying with me! Id like to try to make more transformers in crochet sometime, so we'll see how this pans out. In true third party transformers plausible deniability fashion, I think that I will call this Sundry's Crochet Transformers SCT-01 Sky Marshmallow, hahaha.

See you around!

#maccadam #skyfire #jetfire #transformers #sundrystitchy;

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sugdenlovesdingle · 6 months ago

Note

So...when is Ryan Hawley rejoining Emmerdale? We need a Robron Reunion soon right? Seb is growing up without his Dads, Aaron is stuck in the village and Robert is stuck on the IoW! Of course, when Robert and Aaron come face to face, they will not see eye to eye. So, what would you prefer? A massive blow up like Chrissie and Robert causing havoc in the village or a slow burn like before the 2018 reunion - but obviously with a sane, Maxine written SL? If RWRB fans can manifest a sequel into reality, 911 Buddie fans have the Buckley-Diaz family within reach, we can dream about a Robron wedding in Las Vegas right? 😝😂

lol I don't think buddie fans are really the best example here.

but yes, he's done the guest parts on other shows, he's done voice over work, he's made two kids - time to go back!

Though Maxine isn't a writer on emmerdale anymore (something about rats and sinking ships) but since we're fully 🤡🤡🤡 here maybe she'll do a guest ep for a special occasion!

Like Aaron being shifty for weeks, secret phone calls and texts, snapping at Vinny when he tries to look at his screen. Telling him it's none of his business when he asks what he's hiding. And then one random tuesday he'll announce he's going away for a couple of days and no, he won't tell where to.

And then we get Aaron getting in his car and adjusting the mirrors For Reasons and we see he has one of those picture key chain thingies hanging from his rear-view mirror with their wedding pic with Seb in it and he drives away (this would actually work with the bts pic Danny posted where he's filming with/in Aaron's car!). And there's a few shots of him driving until he pulls up to a random house somewhere. He parks his car and gets out, walks up to the house and rings the doorbell, a person we don't know opens the door. "Hi Aaron. He's waiting for you."

Aaron goes in and we see a little boy watching tv and clutching a giraffe plushie, and a packed backpack next to him.

The person tries to get the kid's attention but he's focused on the tv and they sort of apologise to Aaron who just shrugs and sits down next to him.

"Hey mate, what are you watching?"

And the boy quickly looks at him and smiles and then starts telling him all about the thing he's watching.

And Aaron just lets him ramble and just has this *fond* look in his eyes the whole time.

*some other stuff happens, tom is still abusing belle, everyone is miserable*

When we come back to Aaron and the boy, the show he was watching has ended and he's sitting next to Aaron who has his arm around him.

"So are you ready to go home?"

the boy nods and we see a shot of the person who let Aaron in smiling at the two of them.

"Alright, lets go then. Go say bye."

The boy walks up to the person and says bye and they bend down to hug him.

"Bye Sebastian, it's been a pleasure having you here but I'm sure you'll be very happy back with your dads again."

*gasp* *shock* The boy is Seb!

They leave and we see Aaron strap Seb into a car seat and triple check all of the straps and buckles until he's satisfied and he gets behind the wheel and starts the car.

He tells Seb to wave at the person as they drive away and we see them round the corner and disappear from view.

Then there's some more shots of Aaron driving but it's notably a very different road/route than before and we see him maybe check google maps on his phone a lot, indicating that he doesn't know the road where they're going.

It's implied they've been on road a long time and they stop at a mcdonalds or something to get something to eat and Seb gets to play in the ballpit for a while.

Aaron is still on his phone A LOT and texting someone until his phone rings in his hand. He answers in typical Aaron style with a few one word answers and then hangs up, and tells Seb they have to go again.

When they get into the car he tells Seb it's only short drive now and we see them drive to a bus station and pull over.

Aaron smiles at something in front of them and gets out of the car, standing by the door, not quite believing his eyes.

"You took your time." someone out of view tells him and he laughs.

"Shut up and get over here you."

And we see him stepping away from the car, walking towards someone, and when the other person is within reach, he grabs a suit jacket and the camera focuses on his hands - fists balled into the fabric.

"I've missed you mister Dingle."

And the camera *FINALLY* pans up and we see Robert half smiling, half crying, pulling back a little to REALLY look at Aaron.

And he cups his face and wipes away a stray tear with his thumb.

"I missed you too mister Sugden"

*credits roll, the nation rejoices, all is right in the world again, robron are reunited*

#u-changed-my-life #robron #i pulled this out of my ass in half an hour #i'm not even sure what this is

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cherrycherryves · 2 hours ago

Text

Madness in Mansion Chapter I

A Long Trek, a Great Journey

“Dear Miss Bethany,

By the time you are reading this, I will (hopefully) be long gone. I would tell you where I am going specifically, but I know you or someone else would have to come find me. I have left to find my father. My biological father! So please, please, please don’t worry! (And don’t chase me!)

I know me leaving might make things hard. I won’t be around to help with the other kids or the cleaning or the cooking. I’m sorry for putting more on your plate. But this is something I must do! Something calls for me! And if all goes well, you and the agency won’t have to worry about me anymore! I’ll be with my father safe and sound! If I can, I’ll send you a text message when I get to him and all settled in!

Love,

Lazari Swann!

P.S. There’s still some left over lasagna in the fridge if you were worried about dinner tonight! I put it on the bottom shelf! :-D”

Lazari taped her folded letter to the fridge. Really, it was the only place she was confident her foster mother would see it. The home was always chaotic, so many other kids, ones much younger than Lazari, demanded attention and care and nurturing. So much so that it was often Lazari herself offering such things to the toddlers and babies. She’d help make them breakfast, help them with homework, help them get dressed. Really, she was a bonafide second caregiver to her foster siblings. And while she wished she could’ve stayed after school for clubs or maybe been in her middle school’s play, she didn’t complain. There were much worse things in the world. Much worse situations.

Every morning her foster mother would rush out to the kitchen and begin making breakfast. She’d call for Lazari desperately, as well as some of the older kids to help. And every morning Lazari would jump into action, fully dressed and prepared for the day, and make the most delicious pancakes a 13 year old could make. So the brunette was certain that this was the spot for the letter to be. Brown eyes scanned her dark surroundings, the house still and chilly as she stepped back from the refrigerator. The young girl took a deep breath.

“Goodbye, home four.” She whispered out softly, jostling her stuffed backpack around to be better situated on her shoulders. She had already left letters for her siblings to find (the ones old enough to read at least) so all that was left to do was to leave and get to the bus station. All her money from allowance and chores was saved up for this moment. All her research at the library and on school computers when she should’ve been paying attention to algebra lessons, it was all for this purpose and this purpose alone. Lazari Swann would find her father.

Her mother had died after giving birth to her, that’s what she knew. Her father was nowhere to be found. All she had of her parents was her mother’s necklace and some old photos her mother had kept in an album. The album was mostly of her mother and her family, Polaroids from adventures long buried in the wake of a premature death. Her grandparents refused to take her in, refused contact, and Lazari was left to the devices of the foster care system. She was allowed to keep that album though, the one with many stories never to be heard from her mother’s own mouth. And there was one photo in particular that always caught little Lazari’s attention.

— 🍝 —

Lazari stared at the photo long and hard as she felt the shifts of the bus, as it turned and slowed and sped up. Her fingers rubbed over the ink that had stained the film, her only clue to finding her remaining family, a location she had never heard of yet oozed familiarity.

Loblolly, Alabama

XX,XX,1993

Cascada’s “Everytime We Touch” bumped in her earbuds, bright red iPod held firmly in her opposite hand. She had studied this picture for so much of her childhood, she felt like she could draw it from memory. Lucky for her, a bus from Louisiana to Loblolly, Alabama existed, and 8 hours later that bus was slowing to a hefty stop. Lazari braced herself as the vehicle jolted, it wasn’t exactly a graceful finish to the ride. She popped her head up and tucked the photo away into her jeans’ pocket, pressing pause on her little device and wrapping her earbuds around it to place back in her bag. There weren’t many other passengers on this ride, and certainly none as bright eyed as Lazari. They all seemed lost, the girl had briefly thought, but then again, perhaps she was as well. She shyly thanked the bus driver for getting them to their destination safely and was on her way.

Loblolly, Alabama… the fresh air was welcomed into Lazari’s lungs as she stepped off the bus’ steps and looked around herself. She was closer than ever before to answers, to family, she just wasn’t sure exactly where to start her search. The photo she had been studying all this time was hard to decipher; it was a red monolith erected in what seemed to be a forest of black trees. She always assumed the photo was just taken at night, that’s why it was so dark and ominous looking. But where should she start searching if the whole town seemed to be surrounded by trees? A grumble in her stomach brought her thoughts back to the present moment. It was around lunch time now, no wonder she’d be hungry. So, her search would have to be put on pause while she found something to eat.

The young girl walked by many fascinating things, old stores that somehow seemed to be up and running still, the town square and a library, posts and walls with countless missing persons papers stapled on them. Lazari found herself watching her reflection as she walked by store and restaurant display windows, pleased with herself since her plan was going so smoothly. She disappeared into a small diner to grab a quick bite to eat, setting her overly-packed bag next to herself in the booth. An older woman waltzed over to her, makeup intense and perfume even more so. She peered over her cat-eye glasses to the young lady in front of her, face uninviting but words warm.

“What can I get ya to drink, honey?” Her voice was raspy, but gentle. Lazari decided it was pleasant.

“Oh! Um… do you have iced tea?” The brunette asked meekly, smiling politely like always. The woman didn’t have to write anything on her small notepad yet. She just nodded and stated:

“I’ll be right back with that, hon.”

Lazari watched as she walked away before turning her attention back to the menu. She thought about getting a sandwich, something easy to finish so she wouldn’t have leftovers and waste food, it was just a matter of figuring out what kind. As her eyes scanned over the options, she couldn’t help but pick up on the low conversations surrounding her.

“Did you hear he was spotted again?”

“Yeah, by the high school right? I wonder what he was doing there…”

“There weren’t any reports last night… no new victims or anything. Do you think he’s planning something bigger?”

The sound of a glass clinking against the table made Lazari jump. She looked up to see her waitress, face flushing as she found her own spacing out silly. She thanked the woman who nodded and brought out her notepad.

“Now, what can I get ya to eat?” Lazari had decided to get something simple after all. She ordered a grilled cheese with tomato soup, perfect since the days were getting a bit colder. Once the waitress was gone again, Lazari slumped back against the booth and let herself rest for a short moment.

It was when the waitress was coming to take her dirty plate when she got the confidence to ask. Holding the picture with sweaty fingertips, Lazari looked up to the older woman and squeaked out her question.

“I-I hate to be a bother, ma’am, but I was wondering if-if you know where this is?” The girl presented the image to the waitress and her eyebrows raised. Lazari wasn’t sure if they raised out of recognition or curiosity, or perhaps maybe for a more negative reason like annoyance. Either way, the woman took the picture in her aged hands and tilted her head. After what felt like an eternity, she spoke.

“Sorry, hon, I haven’t got a clue.” Lazari felt her hope falter a bit. “Maybe it could be the park down the road from the high school? You know, there’s a lot of trails there and what not? I think that’s your best bet at finding something like this.” The woman handed the picture back to Lazari with care. She picked up the plate before pausing and turning her head to say something else. “If you’re gonna be going there anytime soon, just be careful. There’s been nasty things going on around us lately…” The waitress turned her head away and left slowly after that, leaving her words to linger in Lazari’s mind. Ultimately, she decided that whatever it was had nothing to do with her or her goals. The young girl gathered her belongings, left an overly-generous tip, and was once again off on her merry journey.

It took a good while to find the high school. Lazari had to ask around for directions and received odd looks in response. It was like the townspeople couldn’t believe someone new had shown up there willingly. They would briefly answer her questions and then brush her off, all guarded and cautious. However, Lazari eventually found her way. And here she was on a hill, gazing upon the small school with a tilt to her head. She felt like she had seen this school before, maybe on the news or in an online article. But that wasn't the point of finding it. Now that she was here, she was certain she’d be able to find that park the waitress had mentioned to her.

“From the high school, go left.” She muttered to herself, reminding herself of the directions a more friendly townsperson had given her. She made her trek down the long road and before she knew it, she was entering the park.

It seemed like any other wildlife park. There were hiking trails, picnic areas, but everything seemed deathly still. An odd melancholy permeated the air. Lazari couldn’t tell if her sudden apprehension was because it would be getting dark soon or if she was just freaking herself out. It was just a park after all, a nature preserve! But the words her waitress shared with her suddenly rang in her head. Still, she had come all this way, she wouldn’t give up on finding her dad now.

Lazari stopped by a map of the trails and inhaled sharply as she realized just how many there were. There was no mention of a red tower, just trail names and things of more importance. She wouldn’t make progress just standing around, she had to keep moving. The young girl picked the longest trail to go down, thinking that this way she’d cover more land. If she didn’t find the tower on this trail, she’d just come back and pick a different one. Sure, it might be tedious, but she felt so close to uncovering something. Her heart raced, and she wanted to believe it was from the adrenaline of finally meeting her father, not from unease.

— 🍝 —

The sun was just disappearing behind the trees when she saw it. The red tower. Her heartbeat quickened, thumping hard against her rib cage. She felt the prick of tears, being in an area where her father and mother must’ve stood at one point. Sure, the tower was rusted and unsturdy, and the trees were a muted green instead of inky black, but this had to be it. She was at the exact angle the photo was taken from! She placed the Polaroid back into her pocket and kneeled down to retrieve her flashlight. Finally, she was finally getting somewhere. Lazari stood back up and switched her flashlight on. She gazed upon the tower once more, and as the sun faded, slowly… so did her optimism.

It suddenly dawned on her just exactly what she was doing here. She had left her foster home behind, traveled 8 hours to a location she’s never been to before, trekked through the woods alone, all just to see some tower that might have something to do with her father? What was she expecting to find here? Was she expecting him to be there? Waiting for her? Was she expecting some miracle to happen, or for something to make sense? She was here and now what was there left to do? That prick of tears turned sour as they trailed down her rounded cheeks. She choked on a hurried breath as her actions, and their possible consequences, started catching up to her. What was the point of this? What was the point of anything?

crrrrack

The sound of a twig sharply snapping made Lazari stiffen. The sound stung her ears, she must’ve grown accustomed to the eerie silence that hung heavy in the branches. With haste, she turned and shakily pointed her flashlight towards the direction of the noise. What she saw before her was almost indescribable.

At first, she thought it was a person, emaciated and bare, but the more her gaze lingered on it, the more she realized that was no human being. Its crouched position gave it an animalistic quality, its face unnaturally contorted in a snarl, and its eyes seemed to reflect her flashlight’s brightness. She shrieked, crying so loudly in hopes the whole world could hear her and someone would be there to rescue her. But she’d have no such luck.

It all happened so quickly. The thing bounded towards her and she ran off the trail. She jumped and stumbled over overgrown roots, feeling thorns and sticks brush by her legs. At a certain point it caught up with her, grabbing her ankle and yanking her back. Her flashlight left her hand and she yelped as her chin met the forest ground. The thing, now on top of her, slashed at her face. She was quicker though and lifted her arms in defense, earning a tear to her favorite sweater (and her arm) instead.

Lazari had always heard your life flashes before your eyes before you die. She saw glimpses here and there, memories of birthdays or going to a new house or meeting a new sibling. She even faintly recalled a barn, and having no time to be confused by that thought, she let the memory comfort her as she tried to make peace with the fact that she was about to be killed. At least she’d get to meet one of her parents tonight. But before this creature could finish her off, she watched it get pounced on by something with much more weight to it.

The creature was tackled off her and she didn’t waste time crawling away. The sounds were that of a struggle. There was growling, tearing, the crunch of bones being crushed by powerful jaws. She snatched up her flashlight to at least give her surroundings more visibility, pointing it towards the sounds just in time to see that whatever had attacked her was dashing away into the darkness with a hiss. She trembled as she looked upon the other beast that remained. Would this one attack her too? Was it just fighting off a competitor to win the prize of a meal?

The dog looked back to her, head tilted and curious. Lazari felt her stomach start to settle. This was no beast! This was a dog! A very large dog, but a dog nonetheless! The animal trotted up to her, keeping its gaze submissive as if to show it was no threat. Lazari swallowed thickly, but didn’t stop it from coming to her. After everything that had just happened, the potential to pet a fluffy dog was the most comforting thing in the world. She reached out a hand and the thing ducked to fit its blocky head under it. With shaking hands still, Lazari stroked its fur, sniffling and trying to quiet her sobs. She did this for minutes, trying to will herself to stop shivering.

“Go-Good boy…” She finally whispered, fingers brushing against a collar. Carefully, she found the bone-shaped tag on it and shone her flashlight over its engraving. “Smile…? Is that your name?” The dog’s tail started to wag and it barked in response, earning a cringe from the young teen. She hushed him nervously, looking around herself and forcing herself to be vigilant. Lazari recounted her belongings, making sure she still had her backpack on her back, her flashlight in her hand, her picture in her pocket. After what felt like hours, she stood up, only mild tremors still affecting her body. Smile watched her and dutifully took on a protective stance once he realized she was ready to move again.

“I don’t suppose you know a way out of here?” She half joked, now realizing she didn’t recognize her surroundings at all. She had gotten so far off the trail. Smile nudged her leg, raising his neck to connect with her fingers. Curiously, Lazari grabbed onto his collar and he began to guide her in a seemingly random direction.

— 🍝 —

To her utter surprise, the dog named Smile had taken her to a cabin. The cabin was rickety, small and she would’ve thought it was abandoned had it not been for the warm lights seeping through the cracks of the boarded up windows. Smile finally left her side, trotting up to the cabin door with a wagging tail. She figured his owners must live here, maybe that’s why he was in the forest in the first place. Cautiously, Lazari stepped up to the cabin door and knocked on it, bony knuckles making a pleasant sound against the wood. There was a long pause and no movement, so desperately, Lazari knocked again. There was another long pause, but this time, some noise could be heard from within the rundown cabin and the door was opened with a great force. Lazari flinched, jumping back as the door swung away from her.

“What!?” A gruff voice sounded out, and Lazari’s vision focused on a man. The man before her stared at her dumbly as soon as he saw her, Smile at her side, happy and playful still. His brows were furrowed, but something in him seemed to immediately soften. Lazari and the man stared at each other for a long moment before a third person entered the equation.

“Tim? Who is it?” This man’s voice was more relaxed, curious as he also entered Lazari’s view and peered over the dark-haired man’s shoulder. He, upon seeing Lazari, immediately held a similarly dumbfounded expression. There was another long bout of staring. Lazari found the courage to try and explain her situation.

“I-I’m sorry! If I um… am disturbing you both! But um! I was on the trail in the park. And-And something attacked me! I don’t know what it was, but… I think your dog saved me? I ran off the trail and got lost when it came after me and I…” Lazari’s voice trailed off as words got jumbled in her head. After the running and the attack, she realized she had run out of steam very rapidly. This fatigue also made her completely forget about the term ‘stranger danger.’ And honestly, these men looked more scared of her than she should be of them. The one named Tim finally spoke.

“Come in.” He stated lowly, opening the door more for Lazari to enter. The other man also moved out of her way. She didn’t have to be told twice. The brunette hurried into the warmth of the cabin and felt herself completely unravel.

The tears started again, her sobbing and biting her lip to try and keep herself quiet. The taller man knelt down a bit by her, attempting to take her backpack off her and she let him.

“Hey now, you’re okay.” He cooed, setting her backpack down with care and taking her hand to guide her to the only bed in the cabin. “You can sit here. Now, what’d you say your name was?” The man squatted in front of her as she slumped down on the thin mattress.

“I’m Lazari.” She sputtered out pathetically, whimpering and shivering all over again.

“It’s nice to meet you Lazari. I’m Brian. That grumpy looking guy is Tim.” Brian nodded his head to the dark-haired man who was on the opposite side of the cabin grabbing something from a shelf. “We’re gonna help you out, okay?” Brian offered his hand to shake and Lazari shyly shook it, manners were ingrained in her. The lanky man patted her hand with his free one when they were done shaking as Tim met up with them, first aid kit in hand.

“Did you get hurt anywhere?” Tim asked softly, squatting down similarly next to Brain. It was at that moment Lazari realized she had gotten scratched. She felt the cold stinging in her arm and looked down to see her sleeve torn and stained red. Tim and Brian watched as she took off her sweater to get a better look at her arm. She was relieved that the t-shirt underneath didn’t get damaged at least. She had worn her favorite outfit for the journey, after all.

“It doesn’t seem to be too bad, just a surface scratch.” Brian noted, suddenly serious. Tim grunted in agreement, switching sides with Brian so he could disinfect the wound and bandage it up.

“This might sting.” Tim noted as he rubbed a disinfectant-drenched cotton ball on her skin. Lazari inhaled a bit suddenly, but that was the extent of her reaction. There was silence as the shorter man bandaged her wound. He was extra careful to not make it too tight on her skinny arm. He was finished swiftly though, and he packed the first aid kit back up to be put back on the shelf.

“Now, can you try to tell us what attacked you?” Brian prodded gently, offering a lopsided smile of reassurance. Lazari hesitated, and he seemed to catch it immediately. “I need you to be as honest as you can. I promise whatever you’re about to say, me and Tim will believe you.” Lazari gulped, but she gave in. She was too tired not to.

“At first I thought it was a person… A really skinny and naked person. But it wasn’t. It was… unnatural… I don’t know how else to describe it, I’m sorry…”

“Hey, you don’t gotta apologize.” Brian hummed. Tim had rejoined them by this time, arms crossed over his broad chest. “We’ve encountered that guy plenty of times. We know exactly what you’re talking about. I’m just glad Smile was there to save you.” Lazari looked to Smile, who had been sitting next to her this whole time. He was as tall as her now that she was sitting. She nodded, also glad that she didn’t have to be met with such a terrible fate.

“What were you doing in these woods at sundown?” Tim suddenly asked, sounding a bit like he was scolding her. Lazari bowed her head, now realizing how stupid this whole plan of hers really was.

“I was looking for my father.” She stated, voice small. The cabin stilled, both Brian and Tim suddenly confused. Lazari continued. “S-See, my mom died giving birth to me and my dad was nowhere to be found. I’ve been going from foster home to foster home and I just wanted to at least try and find my dad. I just wanna go home…” A home that she had never known, Lazari realized as she spoke. “My only clue was this stupid picture!” The young girl presented them with the Polaroid picture from her pocket. Tim took a hold of it and looked down, Brian standing to get a peek as well. Lazari’s eyes were downcast, she couldn’t see their faces turn pale as they gazed upon the image. There was a bout of silence before Tim spoke again.

“I see…” These simple words were filled with trepidation. Brian had grown quieter than ever. The two men exchanged a look, as if reading each other’s minds, exchanging sentences with no words spoken. “We know a guy who might have answers.” The shorter man finally said. Lazari’s eyes widened and she looked back up at them.

“Really!?” She nearly shouted. Tim nodded, but his face looked grim.

“Now listen, kid…” He handed the picture back to her. “You’ve already witnessed first hand that things in this forest are not… right. And now that you’re here, frankly, things might get complicated. The answers you get might not be ones you want to hear. I’m not expecting you to understand anything I’m saying right now. But I’m telling you that you’re gonna have to be a lot stronger from here on out. Things are… well… it’s just…”

Brian placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder, patting it with comforting pressure. He smiled simply, Tim exhaling and taking a moment to recollect his thoughts.

“We’ll bring you to him in the morning. You’ll stay here for the night, where you’re safe.” Brian informed as Tim walked off to go to the sink. He filled up a glass of water and placed it by the bed Lazari was sitting on. “Try to get some rest, okay, Lazari?”

Lazari nodded slowly, allowing their words to sink into her brain. It seemed things were more complicated than she could’ve ever known, but she was in no state to inquire about what they meant or who she was about to meet. The young teen kicked off her shoes and curled up on the mattress. She felt Brian pull the flannel covers up and over her, effectively tucking her in. Smile climbed the short distance from the floor to the bed and huddled up against her legs. Lazari couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but she felt that this must be close to what home feels like, and the warmth of this lonely cabin lulled her to sleep.

#YAYYYY FIRST CHAPTER!!#okay bear with me #I have no idea how to write Tim and Brian #they’ll probably change in characterization as I refresh my memory about them #BUT FOR NOW THIS IS WHAT I HAVE #Madness in Mansion #creepypasta #creepypasta au #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta fanfic #crp fanfic #crp fandom #crp au #lazari swann #tim masky #brian hoodie #smile dog #slender mansion

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